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fOM TRUXTON’S OCEAN TRIP 



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TOM TRUXTON’S 
OCEAN TRIP 


OR 

THE ISLAND OF PALMS 


LIEUTENANT LOUNSBERRY 

AUTHOR OF 

“Tom Truxton’s School Days,” “Kit Carey’s Protege,” 
“Won at West Point,” etc. 



YORK AND LONDON 
ET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS 



THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two Copies Reoeivad 

lUL 15 1903 

Copyright Entry 

^ P 3 

cfLASSl' XXc. No. 

(!^ 'M- I c» *1 

COPY B. I 


Cop)rright, 1903 
By STREET & SMITH 

Tom Truxton’s Ocean Trip 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTIS 

I— A Woman on the Track . 

II — Tom Meets Nicholas Flint . 

III— On Board the Nighthawk 

IV — An Interesting Conversation 

V— Tom Boards the Bark 

VI — Startling News . . . . 

VII — '‘Burned to the Water’s Edge” 

VIII— Mary Ann Controls the Situation 

IX — The Chase .... 

X — Peril Threatens . . . . 

XI — One Consolation . , , 

XII — The Iceberg 

XIII— Tom Makes a Discovery . 

XIV — Mary Ann Fights for Liberty 

XV — In Pursuit of the Fugitives 

XVI — Tom Finds the Fugitives 

XVII— The Bark Reappears 

XVIII — Tom Overhears a Conversation . 
XIX— The Fight in the Glade . 


PACS 

7 

i6 

25 

34 

42 

52 

60 

66 

73 

79 

84 

92 

98 

105 

1 12 

119 

126 

136 

144 


CONTENTS 


ii 

CHAPTBE I’AGB 

XX — Mary Ann to the Rescue . . . 15 1 

XXI — Explanations~The Prisoners . .157 

XXII— A Shot from the Bush . . . 165 

XXIII — The Professor Disappears . . .172 

XXIV— The Hole in the Ground . . . 178 

XXV— In Terrible Peril 185 

XXVI— After the Peril 193 

XXVII — Tom is Captured 199 

XXVIII — Rufus Amuses Himself . . . 207 

XXIX — Treasure on the Island . . . .214 

XXX — Tom Tries an Experiment . . . 220 

XXXI— The Escape 227 

XXXII — The Professor Prepares a Surprise . 234 

XXXIII — An Astounding Announcement . . 240 

XXXIV— Treachery 247 

XXXV — A Luckless Mishap .... 254 
XXXVI— The Yacht Recaptured . . . 261 

XXX VII— The Wreck of the Bark . . .269 

XXXVIII— Conclusion 277 


TOM TRUXTON'8 OCEAN TRIP. 


CHAPTER I. 

A WOMAN ON THE TRACK. 

‘"Hi, there ! Stop the car !” 

‘‘Look out ; there’s a woman on the track !” 

“Great grief ; if it isn’t Mary Ann !” 

“Where, Tom ? I don’t see her.” 

“Why, there, in front of that cable car, Chester.” 

“Bless me ! it is Mary Ann. We must save ” 

The remainder of the sentence was lost in the hubbub 
and turmoil of the busiest street in New York City. 

The one addressed as Tom — a handsome, athletic youth 
— suddenly left his companion on the sidewalk, and, in an 
incredibly short space of time, had threaded his way 
through a maze of vehicles to where a woman was stand- 
ing directly in the path of an approaching cable car. 

She was evidently greatly bewildered, and glanced help- 
lessly around, as if undecided which way to turn. 

The constant clanging of the car gong and the frantic 
shouts of the numerous spectators on crowded Broadway? 


8 


A Woman on the Track. 


formed a pandemonium of noises impossible to describe, 
and it had exactly the opposite effect, keeping the woman 
in total ignorance of her danger. 

Nearer and nearer swept the car, despite the efforts of 
the gripman, and, just as it seemed that the cruel wheels 
would add another victim to the list, the youth before men- 
tioned sprang hastily across the track, and dragged the 
woman into safety. 

The car swept by, brushing her skirts in its passage, 
and then came to a standstill a dozen feet away. 

Still dazed, the woman turned on her rescuer, and, to 
his unbounded surprise, gave him a smart blow across the 
shoulder with her umbrella. 

'‘Oi’ll tache ye to lay yer hands an a dacent woman,” 
she shouted. “Oi’m a lone female, but Oi ” 

“Why, Mary Ann, don’t you know me?” interrupted 
the youth, dodging her blows with laughable agility. ‘T 
am Tom Truxton, and ” 

“Phat! Tom Truxton, is it?” screeched Mary Ann, 
dropping her umbrella, and grasping his hand. “Hiven 
bless us ! it do be the same b’y as was at Professor Pickle’s 
schule. But how come ye in the strate here, a-haulin’ yer 
old friend around before all these grinnin’ thafes, eh ?” 

“I was just in time to save your life, Mary Ann,” re- 
plied Tom, briefly explaining the circumstances. 


A Woman on the Track. 9 

As he finished, the irate woman glared around until her 
eyes fell upon the gripman of the cable car. 

Uttering a whoop that could have been heard two 
blocks, she darted forward with the umbrella in the air 
like a war club. 

‘That! that monkey-faced rogue run over me wid his 
old car!” she shrieked. “Oi’ll tache him a lesson he’ll 
remember till his dying day.” 

Before she had gone very far, Tom grasped her by the 
arm and restrained her, while the gripman, seizing the 
opportunity, rapidly moved the car out of reach. 

By that time a policeman had sauntered up, attracted 
by the gathering crowd. 

‘That’s the matter here, old woman ?” he said, authori- 
tatively. “Phat do ye mane by raising a rumpus and im- 
padin’ the progress of the vehicles in this shtrate, Oi 
dunno ?” 

Wrenching herself free from Tom, Mary Ann marched 
up to the guardian of the peace, and, placing her arms 
akimbo, replied, scornfully : 

“Old woman, yez call me, ye spalpane! Yer an old 
woman yerself. It’s digging praties or moinding the pig 
yez ought to be doin’, instead of walking around here, in- 
sulting respectable females.” 

A howl of delight came from the crowd. The officer 
reddened and glanced about as if undecided whether or 


lO 


A Woman on tlie Track. 


not to arrest all within sight. Espying a little newsboy 
grinning with evident enjoyment, he made a dash for him. 

The spectators scattered, and, in the excitement, the 
officer slipped around a corner, where he was seen, a mo- 
ment later, vigorously fanning himself with his helmet. 
It was quite apparent he was glad to escape the sound of 
Mary Ann’s martial voice. 

In the meantime Tom had escorted her to the sidewalk, 
where he was soon joined by his former companion, Ches- 
ter Gage. 

“Come on, let’s get away from this crowd,” he said, 
hurriedly. “Call a carriage, Chester, and we’ll take the 
old girl to the house. I want to hear what she has to say 
about Mother Simper’s seminary.” 

“So Chester is here, too,” remarked Mary Ann, attempt- 
ing to throw her arms around that modest youth, to his 
great embarrassment. “Well, it’s delighted Oi am to see 
yez both. And phat foine lads yez have grown to be! 
Och, Master Tom, won’t Miss Violet be glad when I tell 
her of this mating.” 

Chester gave his chum a mischievous smile, and then 
went in search of a carriage. Presently returning with a 
double-seated one, the party stepped inside and were 
whirled away, to the evident disappointment of the crowd. 

When a young lad, Tom — the only son and heir of a 
Wall Street banker, who had died under suspicious cir- 


A Woman on the Track. 


II 


cumstances five years previous — was sent to Professor 
Pickle's Academy in the northern part of New York State 
by his guardian, Nicholas Flint. 

The latter had been Banker Truxton's confidential clerk, 
and was supposed to be the only witness of his death. 

Before leaving home for school, Tom had bravely res- 
cued a young lady named Violet Vaughn from the jaws 
of a mad dog. 

Shortly after his arrival at the academy he found that 
she was a student at Simper Seminary located near 
Pickle's Academy, and at which Mary Ann, an Irish- 
woman of combative disposition, was cook. 

At the time of the mad dog episode a rough-looking 
stranger appeared on the scene, and making Tom's ac- 
quaintance, told him that he had traveled thousands of 
miles for the purpose of seeing Nicholas Flint. 

Before he could explain further, the latter drove up and 
carried the stranger home in his coupe. That night the 
stranger disappeared. 

At Pickle Academy Tom became intimate with a school- 
mate named Chester Gag’c, who ultimately became his 
chum, and who stood by him through many trials and ad- 
ventures. 

On his first day at school, Tom had trouble with Rufus 
Kane, an overgrown bully of quarrelsome nature. 

Several weeks later Tom became aware of a plot brew- 


12 


A Woman on the Track. 


ing against him, in which not only Rufus Kane, but Nich- 
olas Flint and his servant, Cyrus Holt, were involved. 

After many adventures, Tom was captured by his ene- 
mies and imprisoned in an old stone house not far from 
Pickle Academy. He there again met the mysterious 
stranger who had, by his own statement, traveled thou- 
sands of miles in search of Nicholas Flint. He also was 
a prisoner in the hands of Tom’s villainous guardian. 

They were both rescued through the efforts of Chester 
Gage. Nicholas Flint and Cyrus Holt were captured, but 
Rufus Kane, the bully of Pickle Academy, succeeded in 
making his escape. 

At the trial of the ringleaders, the mysterious stranger 
announced himself as Walton Graves, the former night 
watchman of Mr. Truxton’s bank. 

He accused Nicholas Flint of having poisoned the 
banker for the purpose of gaining control of his fortune, 
and that he had also striven to cause the death of the heir, 
Tom Truxton, for a similar reason. 

Under the excitement and terror of the accusation, 
Nicholas Flint became violently insane, and was ultimately 
transferred to an asylum. 

His servant and tool, Cyrus Holt, was sent to prison for 
a term of years. At Tom’s request Professor Pickle was 
made the new guardian of his fortune. 

Tom returned to the academy in due time, and, together 


A Woman on tlie Track. 13 

with his chum, "Chester Gage, finished his course of 
studies. 

Our hero had long contemplated a voyage to sea, and 
when he finally graduated, he set about making arrange- 
ments looking toward the gratification of his desires. 

Thus matters stood at the conclusion of the story above 
mentioned. Since then certain incidents had taken place 
which made it apparent that Tom would get to sea at an 
early date and for an extended voyage. 

In the first place Professor Pickle — ^who had amassed 
a considerable fortune by teaching young ideas how to 
shoot — signified his intention of giving up the school. 

During his later years at the academy the professor had 
developed a fondness for the science of botany, which 
grew to be a perfect passion. He had spent large sums 
in acquiring different species of the plant world, and had 
finally concluded that his collection was complete, when 
one day an old sea captain arrived in New York with a 
most peculiar specimen of the genus onion, of great me- 
dicinal value. 

This he declared he had found on an island near the 
fiftieth parallel of south latitude and in a southeasterly 
direction from the Cape of Good Hope. The professor 
hastened to the metropolis and tried to secure the much- 


A Woman on the Track. 


H 

prized specimen, but was an hour too late, the Smithsonian 
Institute securing it. 

Professor Pickle became frantic from disappointment, 
and boldly declared his intention of obtaining a specimen 
of the wonderful onion if it took his entire fortune. He 
tried to ascertain the exact location of the island, but the 
sea captain was strangely reticent, not even the promise of 
a large sum of money having effect. 

This only added fuel to the flames, and the professor 
set to work forthwith arranging an expedition. Seeing 
great promise of sport and adventure, Tom joined hands 
with him heart and soul. He agreed to furnish half the 
money on condition that he and Chester Gage were to be- 
come members of the party. 

This was agreed to, and at the commencement of this 
story our hero, his chum, and the professor were stopping 
in New York, making the final arrangements for the ex- 
pedition. 

Tom and Chester were on their way to the hotel after 
having paid the last deposit on the yacht to be used by 
the party, when the former espied Mary Ann as chronicled 
above. 

Since leaving the academy Tom had corresponded at 
intervals with Violet, but as several weeks had elapsed 


A Woman on the Tract. 15 

since receiving the last letter, it was natural that he should 
have been delighted on running across Mary Ann, who 
would doubtless have news of the young lady. 

He was destined to receive some very surprising intel- 
ligence. 


CHAPTER IL 


TOM MEETS NICHOLAS FLINT. 

“Now, Mary Ann,” began Tom, as they were carried 
rapidly uptown, “I consider this a very fortunate meeting 
in more ways than one. I succeeded in rescuing you from 
possible danger, and now you can repay me by giving me 
certain information ” 

“Concerning Violet Vaughn,” added Chester, in an in- 
nocent voice. 

“Shut up, confound you!” exclaimed our hero. “You 
have nothing to do with the matter. I meant to say ” 

“That yez wanted news from yer swateheart,” inter- 
rupted Mary Ann, grinning broadly. “Well, it’s mesilf 
can give ye that same. Oi’m jusht after laving the dear 
young lady.” 

“What ? Is Violet in the city ?” 

“Yis. She came down this day, and is stopping near 
that place where they do be keeping the animiles.” 

“Castle Garden?” suggested Chester. 

“No. She means Central Park,” said Tom, threatening 
his mischievous companion with his clinched fist. 

“Yis, Cintril Park. And what do yez think? She’s 


Tom Meets Nicholas Flint. 


17 

going away in a few days to a country away down beyant 
the big ocean.” 

“Is it possible ! Well, this is startling news, I must say. 
Violet going to Europe at about the same time I intend 
sailing for the Antarctic Ocean.” 

“It’s not Europe she’s going to, but a wild, wild spot 
where they do be telling me the lions walk the strates all 
night and carry off the childers in their mout’s. It’s 
where the beautiful diamonds come from.” 

“Great grief! she must mean Cape Town!” exclaimed 
Tom, in amazement. “Why, how under the sun did this 
happen ?” 

“It’s this way, Tom. She has an uncle down there in 
business, but phat kind Oi dunno. Maybe sellin’ trunk 
straps to the elephants. He, he, he! Well, anyway, this 
uncle has sint for the dharling to come down on a visit, 
and she’s going at the end of the week.” 

“Alone?” 

“No; Oi do be going wid her as maid, but to tell yez 
the troot, it’s agin’ me will. Oi’m no missionary to go 
furninst the haythins. If it wasn’t that Violet wanted me, 
Oi wouldn’t step me fut beyant the dock.” 

By this time the carriage had arrived at the hotel. Tom 
was just in the act of descending when he heard his name 
called out in a loud voice. Looking up he saw Professor 
Pickle’s familiar face at a window in the second story. 


1 8 Tom Meets Nicholas Flint. 

The old scientist held a telegram in his hand, which he 
waved at our hero in evident excitement. 

“Something has happened,” exclaimed Tom. “Chester, 
bring up Mary Ann. I’ll run ahead and see what is the 
matter.” 

The professor met him at the door of his room. 

“What is the cause of this excitement, sir ?” asked Tom. 
“Has another onion come on the market ?” 

“Onion forsooth! How many times have I told you 
not to call tlie members of the genus Allium by that vul- 
gar name, Thomas ? Why, when you look at the delicate 
white laminae of some varieties, and the ” 

“Yes, yes, I have heard you mention that before,” in- 
terrupted Tom, rather impatiently. “But what has hap- 
pened ? Why did you wave that telegram at me ?” 

“Oh, yes. I have just received word from the super- 
intendent of the insane asylum where Nicholas Flint was 
confined, saying that he escaped night before last. At 
almost the same time Cyrus Holt received his freedom 
from the penitentiary because of the expiration of his 
sentence.” 

“Whew!” whistled Tom, his face expressing the live- 
liest surprise. “Well, this is news. I wonder if Cyrus 
has had anything to do with the escape of Nicholas 
Flint?” • 


“It is quite possible.” 


Tom Meets Nicholas Flint. 19 

'‘Didn’t you receive word some time ago that Flint was 
showing signs of recovery?” 

"Yes, and the superintendent also stated that in his 
opinion the scoundrel had been shamming all the time.” 

"Well, if either of them turns up around here before we 
go, we’ll see that they get their just deserts. Nothing has 
ever been heard of that precious rascal, Rufus Kane, has 
there ?” 

"Not a word. He was supposed to have escaped to 
Australia, I believe.” 

"Humph! he should have gone there years ago when 
it was a convict settlement. He would have felt more 
at home then.” 

"The top o’ the marning to ye, professor I” shouted Mary 
Ann, appearing in the doorway. 

Professor Pickle looked at her aghast, then whispered 
hastily to Tom : 

"Bless my soul ! where did that dreadful woman come 
from?” 

Before that youth could explain, Mary Ann advanced 
and added, with a broad grin on her good-humored face : 

"Ah ha ! but yez look swate for an old felley. Do yez 
remimber the picnic near the academy when I rescued the 
pig, and swatted ye in the face wid a mince poi, I dunno ?” 

The recollection was evidently painful to the professor, 


20 


Tom Meets Nicholas Flint. 


as he beat a hasty retreat to his bedroom, leaving Tom and 
Chester to entertain the Irishwoman. 

Chester was for engaging an open carriage for the pur- 
pose of showing her the city, anticipating great sport from 
such an outing, but Tom refused. 

“No, we have more important affairs to attend to, 
chum,” he said. “We must see about the stores, and — 
and — I want to drop around to see Miss Vaughn for a 
moment.” 

“Yes, of course,” replied Chester, disgustedly. “Don’t 
want a fellow to have any fun, but you must go spooning, 
ril be glad when we get to sea.” 

“Did I tell you about the word received by the professor 
this morning?” replied our hero, hurriedly changing the 
subject. 

“No.” 

“Nicholas Flint has escaped from the asylum.” 

“Great Scott!” 

“And Cyrus Holt has been released from prison.” 

“Worse still.” 

“We may run across them.” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” replied Chester, reflectively. 
“They are very bitter against us, and wouldn’t hesitate to 
work us an injury. Now, if that young villain, Rufus 
Kane, was to bob up again, their set would be complete.” 


Tom Meets Nicholas Flint. 


21 


“It’s rather queer that Nicholas Flint should escape 
directly after his old tool Cyrus had received his freedom.” 

“I guess Cyrus must have helped him. Well, we will 
soon be out of the country, and in a part of the world 
W’here they will never think of going.” 

“Oh, we needn’t bother our heads about them,” said 
Tom, carelessly. “While I take Mary Ann across to Miss 
Vaughn’s residence, you can make yourself useful by call- 
ing upon the ship chandler with this list of stores. Tell 
him to have everything on board the Explorer by to- 
morrow evening sure.” 

“Where will you meet me after seeing Violet?” 

“At the shipyard. Be there by noon and we will take 
lunch on board.” 

Chester left at once on his errand, while Tom after a 
moment of conversation with the professor, escorted Mary 
Ann to the house in which Violet was staying. 

He was received by that young lady with demure cor- 
diality, and spent a very pleasant half hour in her society. 

“I was greatly surprised when Mary Ann told me that 
you were on the eve of leaving for Cape Town,” he said, 
during the conversation. “How long do you expect to 
stay there ?” 

“Possibly four months,” replied Violet. “And how 
much of a voyage do you intend to make with the pro- 
fessor ?” 


22 


Tom Meets Nicliolas Flint. 


“It is hard to tell. We may be gone a year, and then 
again we may possibly return in half the time.^’ 

“This island is supposed to be south of the African 
Continent, is not not ?” 

“Yes, to the southeastward.'' 

“Then you will probably pass close to the Cape of Good 
Hope, will you not?" suggested Violet, her cheeks redden- 
ing slightly. 

“Why, of course we will, and we'll surely call in at 
Cape Town," exclaimed Tom, eagerly. “What a dolt I 
am ndt to realize that I will have a chance to see you 
again before " 

“He ! he ! he !" giggled Mary Ann, who had been seated 
quietly near the window. 

“What is the matter with you?" demanded our hero, 
sternly. 

“Nothin' at all, Tom," replied the jovial Irishwoman, 
with a prodigious grin. “Oi was jusht thinking av th' 
toime whin me fader's goat bit off Tim Murphy's chin 
whisker while he was aslape, and " 

Mary Ann did not have time to describe the sad catas- 
trophe, as Tom arose and left, after bidding Violet fare- 
well. 

He little knew under what peculiar circumstances he 
would again see the young girl and her honest, good- 
natured maid. 


Tom Meets Nicholas Flint. 


23 

Taking a train on the elevated road he was soon car- 
ried down to the foot of South Street where the Staten 
Island Ferry line has its pier. 

The yacht purchased by Tom and the professor was at 
anchor in the lower bay near the Staten Island shore. To 
reach it Tom had to take the ferry, and then board the 
yacht in a rowboat. 

Paying his fare at the gate, Tom passed on board just 
as the bell rang a signal to start. As it was a bright, 
warm day, he ascended to the upper deck, and was in the 
act of taking a seat upon one of the numerous camp stools 
scattered about, when he chanced to notice a man stand- 
ing near the port railing. 

Something in his pose struck Tom as familiar, and the 
youth stepped forward for the purpose of obtaining a 
better view. 

As he did so the fellow turned in Tom’s direction, then 
uttering a stifled cry, staggered back against the rail. 

‘‘Great grief ! it’s Nicholas Flint !” 

With the exclamation still trembling upon his lips, Tom 
sprang forward with the intention of capturing his late 
guardian, the supposed insane criminal and recently-es- 
caped prisoner from the State asylum. 

The ferryboat was just in the act of leaving the slip, 
and at that moment was passing close to a two-storied 
pier with open sides. 


24 


Tom Meets NicHolas Flint. 


As Tom started toward him, Nicholas Flint hastily 
glared around in search of an avenue of escape. He saw 
the proximity of the pier, and, with a shout of defiance, 
mounted the railing. 

Divining his intention, Tom leaped to his side. 

'‘Come back, you scoundrel!” he cried, attempting to 
grasp his arm. 

He was a second too late. 

Spurning the rail with his foot, Nicholas Flint made a 
flying leap for the pier, and landed safely upon the upper 
platform. 

Quick as a flash, Tom followed suit, but, miscalculating 
the distance, he struck against the guard rail of the pier 
with a crash, and then tumbled backward into the swiftly- 
flowing waters of the river. 


CHAPTER III. 


ON BOARD THE NIGPITHAWK. 

Tom’s skill as a swimmer had never stood him in 
greater stead than at this moment. It seemed that he had 
hardly touched the water before the rapid current had 
carried him past the entrance to the ferry slip. 

Despite his strenuous efforts, he was swept along until, 
at last, he brought up against another pier wall in the 
next slip. 

At that moment a number of men, attracted by the cries 
of the horrified spectators on the ferryboat, started to the 
rescue. One of them, bearing a circular life-preserver, 
dangling at the end of a long rope, crawled out over the 
spiling. 

This he lowered to Tom, and a few moments later our 
hero was hauled up to a place of safety, water-soaked, but 
still eager for the chase. 

“Where did he go ?” was his first question, after thank- 
ing his rescuer. 

“Where did who go?” 

“Why, the man who escaped from the Staten Island 
ferryboat. He is an insane criminal, named Nicholas 
Flint, and must be recaptured at once.” 


26 On Board the Nighthawk. 

'"Did he jump to that two-storied pier over there ?’’ 

“Yes. I tried to follow him, but fell a trifle short.’’ 

“I think I saw the fellow you mean,” spoke up one of 
the bystanders. “Did he wear a slouch hat and rough- 
looking clothes?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, I saw him run along the second story of the pier, 
and then descend to the street near the elevated station.” 

“He has escaped by this time, then,” said Tom, hope- 
lessly. “I would give a hundred dollars, cash down, if I 
could capture him.” 

“It’s no use, young feller,” said the first speaker, care- 
lessly. “He was making tracks at a great rate when I 
saw him. Better tell the police about it.” 

Thinking this good advice, Tom hurried to the station 
at Pier A, and gave the sergeant in charge a detailed de- 
scription of Nicholas Flint. 

Having part of his wardrobe on board the yacht, Tom 
did not return to the hotel for dry clothing, but took the 
next ferryboat for Staten Island. 

On reaching the yacht — which was a schooner-rigged 
craft of about two hundred tons displacement, and very 
rakish in appearance — Tom went directly to the after- 
cabin, where he expected to find Chester in readiness for 
lunch. 

On entering the saloon he saw that his chum had com- 


On Board tlie Nighthawk. 27 

pany. A dark-faced, elderly man, with coarse whiskers, 
was seated near the center table engaged in conversation 
with Chester. 

The stranger arose to his feet, on seeing Tom, and 
bowed awkwardly. 

‘This is Captain Scroggins, of the bark Nighthawk/* 
explained Chester, with a sly wink at Tom. “He is the 
skipper who discovered the wonderful plant Professor 
Pickle is so enthusiastic over.” 

“Yes, young man,” said Scroggins in a deep, hoarse 
voice. “I am that individual, and I hev come aboard to 
see the boss of this here craft. Be you him?” 

“I am part owner of the craft,” replied Tom, rather 
coldly. “Can I be of any service to you, sir?” 

“I reckon you can. I understand the professor is fit- 
ting out an expedition for the purpose of looking up this 
here island, and getting another specimen of that bloom- 
ing onion.” 

“You have been rightly informed.” 

“Well, all I can say is, don’t ye do it, my lad. Don’t ye 
throw any good money away trying to find the island, be- 
cause ye can’t do it.” 

“We can’t?” echoed Tom, in surprise. “What will 
hinder us, pray?” 

“That I don’t go for to say,” replied Scroggins, dog- 


28 


On Board the Nighthawk. 


gedly. “But you take a fool’s adwice and stay away from 
them southern latitoods, that’s all.” 

“You sailed down there, and ran across the island all 
right, didn’t you ?” 

“Yes, but ” 

“Well, so will we, sir.” 

“I say again, ye’d better not, young feller. I know 
what I am talking about, and if ye know what’s good for 
yer you’ll give my island a wide berth.” 

“Your island ?” 

“Yes, I discovered it, and it belongs to me.” 

“Enough of this nonsense, sir,” exclaimed Tom, impa- 
tiently. “If you haven’t any better reason to offer than 
these mysterious allusions, you are wasting your time. 
We have fitted out this yacht for the purpose of discover- 
ing another specimen of a rare plant, and we intend to 
do it.” 

“Ye will, eh?” growled Scroggins, moving toward the 
companionway. 

Pausing at the foot of the stairs, he shook his fist at our 
hero, and added in a voice hoarse with passion ; 

“I am going down there myself, consarn yer! And if 
I catch you or any one else a-fooling around the island I’ll 
fix yer. Mark my words.” 

Still growling and muttering imprecations, Scroggins 


On Board tlie Nighthawk. 29 

disappeared on deck, and a moment later the sound of his 
oars was heard as he rapidly rowed ashore. 

“Well, did you ever see such an old idiot?’’ exclaimed 
Chester, laughing heartily. 

“He is a fool if he thinks he can scare us away by such 
talk. When did he come on board ?” 

“About half an hour ago. At first he said that he was 
a seafaring man, and desired to look over the yacht. I 
showed him around, and then he told me who he was. It 
is certainly very queer that he should object to our going 
down there.” 

“It is,” replied Tom, thoughtfully. 

“He can’t be afraid we’ll find another of those con- 
founded onions ?” 

“No. There is something else in it. Maybe he found 
gold or precious stones on the island.” 

“That is possible. Don’t you remember that he told old 
Pickle about having to put to sea again the night after 
landing because of a violent storm ?” 

“Yes ; and he also stated that the wind was blowing on 
shore, and he expected to strike the beach every moment. 
He couldn’t find bottom with his anchors, so he had to 
put out a sea anchor or a heavy raft of spars fastened 
astern with a long hawser. Notwithstanding the fierce 
gale blowing shoreward, the island was not in sight on the 
following morning.” 


30 On Board the Nighthawk. 

"'I remember that. It was deuced queer. But how on 
earth did you get so wet?” 

Tom explained his adventure with Nicholas Flint, to 
Chester’s great surprise. 

“Jumping Moses! so he has turned up at last, eh? 
What a pity you didn’t catch him. Did you see anything 
of Cyrus Holt?” 

“No, but he might have been on the ferryboat. I am 
afraid we are going to have trouble with that pair of 
rascals, Chester. It looks suspicious that he should be on 
the Staten Island ferry.” 

“He might have heard about the expedition, and be on 
his way down here for some evil purpose.” 

“That is exactly my idea,” exclaimed Tom. “Both 
Nicholas Flint and his former servant are capable of doing 
any piece of villainy to satisfy their desire for revenge.” 

“Well, we intend to leave the United States day after 
to-morrow, so we will keep a close watch for them until 
that time, and then snap our fingers.” 

A moment later Tom withdrew to his room and changed 
his wet clothes for others more comfortable. Then the 
two friends sat down to lunch which the attentive steward 
had spread upon the table. 

After a while Professor Pickle came on board with a 
couple of porters carrying his scientific books and in- 


struments. 


On Board the Nighthawk. 31 

On being told by Tom of the encounter with Nicholas 
Flint and the interview with Captain Scroggins, the pro- 
fessor displayed great uneasiness.” 

“The scoundrel ought to be recaptured at once,” he said. 
“He is a dangerous man, and so long as he is at liberty 
we are liable to have trouble. As for Captain Scroggins, 
I am sorry he exhibited such temper, as I intended to ask 
him to go with us as sailing master.” 

“You did?” exclaimed Tom, in surprise. 

“Yes, I thought it would be a good idea, as he knows 
the exact whereabouts of the island and could take us 
there without loss of time.” 

“From what he said this noon I doubt if he would con- 
sent,” remarked Chester. > 

“He certainly wouldn’t make a very desirable com- 
panion,” said Tom, slowly shaking his head. 

“We could stand him until the island was reached and a 
return to Cape Town made,” persisted the professor, who 
was greatly taken with the plan. “We could ship him 
home from there easy enough.” 

“Well, you might try him and see if he’ll go.” 

“Where is the Nighthawk anchored?” 

“About a mile farther up the bay.” 

The professor glanced at his watch. 

“It is now half-past four. I have to meet a scientist at 
the Astor House at six. The interview will be short, so 


32 On Board the Nighthawk. 

you can expect me here again by eight o'clock at the 
latest." 

^^All right, ril have a boat in readiness." 

The professor returned at the proper hour. Tom and 
he embarked at once, leaving Chester Gage to guard the 
yacht until their return, which neither expected would be 
later than eleven o’clock. 

The night had grown very dark, but the twinkling 
lights along the Staten Island shore guided them on their 
way. The tide was with them, so the skipper’s vessel was 
gained in quick Hme. 

On reaching the gangway of the bark Tom and his 
companion climbed on board without being hailed. 

“By Jove ! they don’t keep a very bright anchor watch," 
said our hero, glancing up and down the deserted deck. 

Forward the door of the forecastle was open. The dim 
rays of a smoky lantern were shining through it, and ever 
and anon a burst of song came to their ears. 

“Jack is making merry in the bows," muttered Tom. 
“I wonder if old Scroggins is doing likewise aft. We 
will go and see." 

Together they walked toward the stern until the sky- 
light in the deck about the cabin was reached. A heavy 
tarpaulin had been thrown over it, but so carelessly that 
one corner remained uncovered. 


On Board the Nighthawk. 33 

Tom instinctively halted and glanced down into the 
interior. 

A second later he started back with a half-stifled cry 
of amazement. Grasping Professor Pickle by the arm he 
pointed toward the cabin, and whispered, hoarsely : 

‘^Great grief! look down there. Quick! there is no 
time to lose \” 

Professor Pickle did as requested. Around the center 
table of the cabin were three men and a youth — Scroggins, 
Nicholas Flint, Cyrus Holt and Rufus Kane ! 


CHAPTER IV. 


AN INTERESTING CONVERSATION. 

The man nearest the door of the cabin was Captain 
Scroggins. Seated next to the skipper was Nicholas 
Flint, an evil smile upon his attenuated face. On the 
opposite side was Cyrus Holt, while occupying a chair at 
the end of the table was the professor’s former pupil, 
Rufus Kane. 

The latter seemed much older in appearance, and the 
shabby garments in which he was clad proclaimed that he 
had experienced the rough side of the world since leaving 
Pickle Academy. 

They had evidently been engaged in an animated con- 
versation, probably heightened by the presence of a black 
bottle which Scroggins consulted very frequently. 

All this Professor Pickle saw with one rapid glance. 
Turning hurriedly to Tom he whispered: 

^This is simply marvelous. We could not have a better 
opportunity of capturing Flint and that young rascal 
Knne. Let us return to shore and get the police.” 

“Wait a moment. Perhaps we can overhear their con- 
versation,” replied Tom. “This looks very suspicious.” 


An Interesting Conversation. 35 

'^That is so. What business can those fellows have on 
board this bark 

*‘We will try to find out.’’ 

Leaning over, Tom gently felt the skylight. To his 
joy, he found that he could raise it. 

Inch by inch, he elevated the sash until it was half a 
foot from the coaming. Then getting upon his knees, 
Tom bent his ear to the aperture. The professor followed 
his example, and the two listened intently to the conversa- 
tion wafted up from below. v 

Scroggins was speaking, and his voice, husky with the 
years spent amid the salty blasts of many a gale, came 
plainly to the silent listeners over his head. 

“So ye are with me, then, eh, mates ?” he roared. 

Then, thumping the table with one brawny hand, he 
added : 

“It’ll be the chance of yer life, mind that. What I de- 
scribed to ye, I seed with these two eyes, and if ye come 
along ye can have share and share alike. Then, ag’in, 
there’s the chance to settle old scores with them people on 
the yacht.” 

“That is what we are after, mainly, captain,” spoke up 
Nicholas Flint, rubbing his hands. 

“Yes, we want revenge,” added Cyrus Holt, vindic- 
tively. “I want to repay that young upstart, Tom Trux- 
ton, for the years I spent in prison.” 


36 An Interesting Conversation. 

“And I would give half my life to have all three of 
them in my power for one moment/^ added Rufus Kane, 
in such a ferocious voice that his companions, hardened 
in crime as they were, glanced at him in partial disgust. 

“Well, ye can git satisfaction in due time, mates. Just 
keep alongside o’ me, and I’ll fix ye.” 

“We are very fortunate in running across you, captain,” 
said Nicholas Flint. “When I made my escape, at last, 
from the asylum, where that young dog had placed me, I 
was almost discouraged.” 

“You would be there yet if it hadn’t been for me,” re- 
marked Cyrus. 

“And I guess I deserve a little credit,” interposed Kane. 

“Yes, and I am thankful to both of you.” 

“It isn’t thanks we want, but money,” replied Rufus, 
brutally. 

“Ye’ll git that, if you only do as I tell ye, and jine the 
Nighthawk/^ said Captain Scroggins, taking another pull 
at the black bottle. 

“As I was saying, we were very lucky in crossing your 
path,” continued Flint, impatiently. “When we reached 
New York, after the escape, I didn’t know which way to 
turn. I had heard about this foolish expedition of old 
Pickle, and I was afraid they would leave the country 
without our having a chance at them.” 

“I understand they sail to-morrow night,” said Cyrus. 


37 


An Interesting Conversation. 

*‘Yes, that is their intention.” 

'‘We’ll be right behind them, mates. That is, if ye 
conclude to trust yer luck aboard this hooker. When ye 
tackled me for information, after I left the yacht, this 
afternoon, I thought you would turn out to be fellers arter 
my own heart. Will ye ship, mates ?” 

“You say you need three men ?” 

“Yes. I have seven bully boys, but I must have more 
to sail the bark. We will go down in ballast, and return 
with a hold full of stuff. What d’ye say?” 

“Where is this island?” asked Nicholas Flint, reflect- 
ively. 

“Ye’ll know when ye git there, and not before,” replied 
the skipper, bluntly. “I’m not giving my secrets away, 
my man. If ye’d had as much trouble, and such a scare 
as I did, ye’d refuse, too.” 

“Scare ? What do you mean ?” 

“Ye’ll find out in good time.” 

“Is it about the island?” 

“Yes ; but ye needn’t try to pump me. Jim Scroggins 
can be as tight as an oyster when he chooses.” 

“What about that onion, or bulb, you brought home?” 
asked Cyrus Holt, curiously. “How did you know it was 
a rare specimen? You certainly don’t look like a man 
who would dabble in botany.” 

“What do yer take me for, a fool ?” roared the skipper 


38 An Interesting Conversation. 

in disgust. “I had a sailor on board who had gone to sea 
for his health. He found it — at the bottom of the ocean ; 
ho ! ho ! ho ! He was a college chap, and the day we was 
ashore he picked up that there onion, and carried it aboard. 
I was going to eat the blamed thing, but he said as how it 
was very valuable, and would sell for a big lump of 
money. And so it did.” 

“It’s a pity you didn’t get a cargo of them.” 

“I would have, but the storm I was telling you about 
came up, and the next morning the island was gone. Well, 
are you going to ship or not ? lam all ready to sail, and 
if ye’ll sign articles we’ll pull out when the yacht sails.” 

“It will be share and share alike?” 

“Yes.” 

“And you will help us capture the yacht ?” 

“Yes, and give ye a hand to make them walk the plank, 
if you wish.” 

“Well, we’ll join forces with you, captain.” 

“Good. We’ll have a drink all around to ” 

Crash ! 

Captain Scroggins was suddenly interrupted by the 
sound of splintering glass, and a large fragment struck 
the table directly in front of him. 

In an instant the cabin was in an uproar. Springing to 
his feet the skipper rushed into an adjoining stateroom. 


An Interesting Conversation. 39 

and instantly reappeared with a revolver clutched in his 
hand. 

^‘On deck, mates he shouted. “Some person has been 
listening.'' 

“I'll give the eavesdroppers a taste of this," exclaimed 
Rufus Kane, snatching a knife from a rack over the table. 

Together they rushed up the steps, reaching the outer 
deck just in time to see two figures hastily disappear over 
the side near the gangway. 

“There they go!" cried Nicholas Flint, indicating the 
direction with his hand. “There is a pair of them, and 
they are trying to escape." 

“We'll soon stop them," replied Scroggins, cocking the 
revolver. 

Rushing to the side he peered over and saw a rowboat 
just disappearing in the gloom. 

“Come back here, or I’ll fire I" he roared. 

“Fire away, Captain Scroggins," called out a voice from 
the darkness. 

Frantic with rage, the skipper pulled the trigger of his 
weapon. There was a sharp report, the flash of burning 
powder illumined the darkness for one brief second, then 
a mocking laugh came from the direction in which the 
boat had vanished. 

Scroggins was in the act of firing again when he felt a 
hand placed on his shoulder with no gentle force. 


40 An Interesting Conversation. 

“Ten thousand demons !” fiercely exclaimed Nicholas 
Flint. “Do not alarm the harbor, man.” 

“Let go of my shoulder. I’ll Tarn the sharks to come 
snooking aboard my craft. Let go of me, I say !” 

“Don’t be a fool,” replied Flint, harshly. “Keep cool. 
You’ll need all of your nerve before many minutes.” 

“What d’ye mean ?” 

“Do you know who that was who shouted your name 
from the boat ?” 

“No.” 

“It was Tom Truxton.” 

A cry of surprise came from not only the captain but 
from Cyrus Holt and Rufus Kane as well. 

“What!” stormed the former. “D’ye mean to say the 
young feller wot owns the yacht was aboard just now?” 

“Yes, I’d know his voice among a thousand,” replied 
Flint, grimly. “He was not only aboard of the Night- 
hawk three minutes ago, but he was listening at the cabin 
skylight.” 

“And he overheard our talk ?” 

“Beyond a doubt.” 

Just then Rufus, who had been examining the skylight, 
returned with the information that it had been raised from 
the coaming. 

“It had been held up by a stick which was carried away 
during a roll of the bark,” he added. 


An Interesting Conversation. 41 

“We are in a precious pickle now,” growled Scrog^ns. 

“There is only one thing to do,” replied Nicholas Flint. 

“What is that?” 

“Get under way at once. You said you were ready to 
sail. You have your crew, so up anchor and let us get to 
sea without delay.” 

“By the boots ! I’ll do it,” shouted the skipper. 

Running forward he routed out the men from the fore- 
castle, and within a few moments, the sullen clank of the 
anchor chain as it grated through the hawse-pipes sounded 
on the night air. 


CHAPTER V. 


TOM BOARDS THE BARK. 

It is now time to return to Tom and Professor Pickle. 

They had listened with breathless interest to the con- 
versation carried on in the cabin of the Nighthawk, and 
just as Nicholas Flint had stated his determination to ship 
under Captain Scroggins, a slight lurch of the bark 
caused the skylight to fall with a crash. 

Tom was leaning upon the glass at the time, and the 
force of the fall caused his elbow to penetrate the fragile 
partition. 

Quick as a flash, Tom sprang to his feet. 

‘To the boat !’’ he exclaimed, running toward the gang- 
way. “Jump over the side, professor. If they catch us, 
our lives will not be worth a moment’s purchase.” 

It was evident Professor Pickle was of the same opin- 
ion, as he was directly at Tom’s heels when that agile 
youth scrambled down into the cutter. 

The two men manning it instantly realized that some- 
thing was up. Rapidly working their oars, they left the 
side of the bark, and had reached a comparatively safe 
distance when Scroggins and the rest appeared over the 
low rail. 


Tom Boards the Bark. 


43 


What followed has been described. 

‘‘Whew! that was a close shave/' said Tom, grimly. 
“They came very near catching us.” 

“That they did,” replied the professor, breathing heavily 
from the unwonted exertion. 

“Ah I they must intend getting under way at once. Do 
you hear the clank of the capstan ?” 

“They are heaving short,” spoke up one of the oars- 
men. “And there goes a signal for a tug.” 

“We must stop them in some way,” said Professor 
Pickle, hastily. 

“Row ashore,” cried Tom. “Quick, men ; make for the 
ferry landing on Staten Island. We’ll telephone for the 
New York police boat.” 

Seizing a spare oar, Tom assisted the sailors, and the 
light cutter was soon spinning over the waters of the bay 
toward the adjacent shore. 

The professor took control of the tiller. He was hardly 
an expert, but he contrived to steer a moderately straight 
course. 

As stated before, the night was very dark. The sky 
had become overcast, and rain threatened. Along the 
shore of Staten Island numerous twinkling lights pro- 
claimed the location of divers vessels at anchor or tugs 
awaiting a call for a tow. 

Not far in advance of the rowboat a red light came 


44 


Tom Boards the Bark. 


tossing toward it. Then a green light suddenly appeared 
in close conjunction with the previous one. 

The professor noticed them, but the sight did not in- 
spire in his breast the slightest suspicion of danger. He 
admired the colors, and that was all. 

Rapidly Tom and the sailors labored at the oars, with 
their backs turned to the approaching lights. The pro- 
fessor held the tiller with a firm grasp and steered directly 
for the shore. 

Suddenly one of the oarsmen glanced over his shoulder. 
He instantly saw that of which the professor was bliss- 
fully ignorant. The lights were on a tug bearing down 
upon them and not a dozen yards away. 

Uttering a hoarse shout of alarm, the frightened sailor 
sprang past Tom and seized the helm. Giving it a swing, 
he brought the cutter broadside to the rapidly nearing 
tug, at the same time shouting to the others to row for 
their lives. 

Too late ! 

Forced along under the impetus of her powerful en- 
gines, the tug struck the frail sides of the cutter with a 
resounding crash, and in an instant the occupants were 
struggling amid the white spume of the tug’s wake. 

For the second time that day our hero found himself 
compelled to battle with the water of New York Bay. 


Tom Boards the Bark. 


45 

Regaining the surface after the first plunge, he struck out 
boldly after the tug. 

A moment later he came in contact with some one just 
rising to the top. It was the professor, and from the 
feeble strokes that the scientist was giving it was evident 
he could not swim very well. 

'‘Help-p !” he sputtered, threshing the water wildly with 
his arms. 

Hastily grasping him by the shoulder with one hand, 
Tom sternly bade him cease struggling. 

“We are all right,"’ our hero added, encouragingly. 
“The tug is returning to pick us up.” 

He had seen the light at the stern cease moving, then 
become larger as the craft swung around and steamed to- 
ward them. A hoarse hail came to the ears of those in 
the water. 

“Ahoy ! where are you ?” 

One of the sailors swimming close to Tom replied, and 
within a few minutes the tug bore down upon them. The 
work of rescue did not take long. Greatly exhausted and 
dripping from head to foot, the four former occupants of 
the ill-fated cutter were hauled on board by the deck 
hands. 

“Where is the captain of this tug?” asked Tom. 

A dark figure stepped down from the pilot house and 
approached the group. 


46 


Tom Boards the Bark. 


‘What in blazes do you mean by rowing around the 
harbor without a light ?’’ came the demand, gruffly. 

“Are you captain ?” asked our hero. 

“Yes.’’ 

“Well, we want your services at once.” 

“You do, eh ? That’s cool, I must say. I think I have 
just rendered you pretty fair service.” 

“Acknowledged,” replied Tom, impatiently. “But 
what I mean is, that I desire to charter this tug for a 
couple of hours.” 

The captain scratched his head, and cast a glance at the 
shadowy outlines of the Nighthawk, a few cable lengths 
away. 

“I was going out to answer that fellow’s signal for a 
tow,” he said, presently. “And I don’t like to lose the 
job.” 

“What will he pay you ?” 

“According to where he wants to go. If he is bound 
past the Narrows, it’ll be about thirty dollars, I reckon.” 

“Well, I can tell you that he is going to sea, if he can 
get there,” said Tom. “But I am going to stop him, if 
I can.” 

“You are?” 

“Yes ; there is an escaped criminal on board. He must 
not be allowed to leave this harbor. Take us ashore, so 









Tom Boards the Bark. 


47 

that we can telephone to the New York police boat, and 
I’ll pay you double the sum you stated.” 

“Who are you ?” asked the captain, cautiously. 

“Oh, you needn’t be afraid about the money,” replied 
Tom, taking a well-filled pocketbook from his coat. 

“Here are sixty dollars,” he added, extending several 
bills. 

“That’s prompt payment, my boy. I’ll go ye.” 

Entering the pilot house, he gave the engine-room bell 
a vigorous pull, and headed for the ferry wharf. Within 
a half hour Tom and the professor were ashore. 

Communications with the police department in New 
York elicited the discouraging information that the patrol 
boat had left on another errand. 

“Take several Staten Island police, and board the bark 
on a tug,” advised the sergeant, at the other end of the 
wire. “Hold them in the name of the law, and we will 
join you before long.” 

“We’ll try it,” exclaimed Tom, decisively, 

“We can take the same tug,” suggested the professor. 

“Go to the nearest station, and get as many officers as 
you can, while I secure the tug,” directed Tom, hastily. 

Professor Pickle succeeded 'in securing the services of 
four policemen, with whom he joined Tom at once. 

As they boarded the craft, at the end of the wharf, an- 
other tug steamed slowly past, towing a bark. The creak- 


48 Tom Boards the Bark. 

ing of blocks and the flapping of loosened canvas indi- 
cated that her crew was hard at work preparing for sea. 

Tom had entered the pilot house with the captain. 
Snatching up a night-glass, he leveled it at the dim out- 
lines of the passing vessel. 

“It’s the Nighthawk,” he exclaimed, a second later. 
“Run alongside of her at once, or we’ll be too late.” 

“Just keep cool, young fellow,” growled the skipper, in 
reply. “We’ll overhaul them in a jiffy.” 

At that moment the professor and the sergeant in 
charge of the police squad entered the apartment. 

“There is no chance of mistake in this affair?” asked 
the latter. “You are positive the man you are after is on 
board of that vessel ?” 

“Yes, and you will find him a pretty tough customer,” 
replied Tom. “You had better advise your men to have 
their revolvers in readiness. The scoundrels on board of 
that bark will not submit without a struggle.” 

“If you succeed in capturing them I’ll promise to make 
it worth your while,” said Professor Pickle. “There is a 
man named Nicholas Flint, and a youth of about nineteen 
years of age, on her. For each I will pay five hundred 
dollars.” 

“They are as good as captured already,” replied the 
officer, grimly. “They won’t dare resist an officer of the 
law.” 


Tom Boards the Bark. 


49 

“You don’t know them,” remarked Tom, rather con- 
temptuously. 

“Stand-by, you fellows,” sung out the captain. “We’ll 
be within hailing distance in a moment.” 

Tom left the pilot house with the sergeant, and, taking 
his stand near the bow, prepared for the struggle which 
he knew was impending. He realized that his former 
guardian would resist capture to the last. Even with the 
police at his command, our hero felt very dubious of the 
result. 

“I wish the New York patrol boat would appear about 
now,” he muttered, half to himself. 

“We don’t need it,” replied the sergeant, importantly. 
“We will walk right aboard of that craft, and have them 
in irons before you can say Jack Robinson.*' 

Tom did not feel the confidence of his companion, but 
he refrained from answering. They were now within 
hailing distance. Shaping his hands like a trumpet, our 
hero shouted at the top of his voice : 

“Ahoy the Nighthawk !” 

“What d’ye want?” came the reply, in Captain Scrog- 
gins’ fog-horn voice. 

“Signal your tug to stop ; we want to speak with you.” 

“Ain’t got time.” 

“Lay to, confound you!” shouted the sergeant, in a 


Tom Boards the Bark. 


SO 

rage. “I am an officer of the law, and I want to board 
you.’' 

*‘Go to blazes ! If you try to climb aboard this hooker, 
I’ll dump you into the briny, officer or no officer.” 

“Run alongside, captain,” howled the policeman. 
“Make for the gangway, do you hear? I’ll show those 
people what the law can do.” 

In obedience to the skipper’s touch at the wheel the tug 
sheered close to the moving bark. Tom and the sergeant 
were on the point of springing into the Nighthawk's rig- 
ging when she lurched away leaving a broad space be- 
tween the two craft. 

At the same moment Captain Scroggins’ squat figure 
appeared at the gangway. He had a pistol clutched in 
his right hand. Leveling it at the party on the tug, he 
shouted : 

“Sheer off, ye bloody pirates, or I’ll fire. This is an 
honest vessel, and I won’t have it boarded by nobody.” 

“You have an escaped criminal on board named Nich- 
olas Flint,” called out Tom, hotly. “Surrender him, or 
take the consequences.” 

“There ain’t any person aboard except the regular 
crew,” replied Scroggins. “I know what ye are. You’re 
boarding-house shanghiers, and you want to steal my 
crew.” 

“Don’t waste any further words with him,” whispered 


Tom Boards the Bark. 


51 

Tom. “Get your men up here, and we’ll jump on board 
and take chances.” 

“I’ll show him what the law is,” blustered the sergeant, 
but he did not make any move toward massing his men 
as Tom had directed. 

Seeing that he need expect little aid from the fellow, 
Tom set his teeth with grim determination, and waiting 
until the tug had been brought alongside once more, made 
a leap for the mizzen rigging. 


CHAPTER VI. 


STARTLING NEWS. 

It was a daring attempt, but proved successful, and a 
few seconds later Tom found himself on the after deck 
of the bark confronting Captain Scroggins. 

One rapid glance to the rear showed him that he was 
alone. Not one of the police had followed, and to make it 
worse, the tug had dropped astern and was at least ten 
yards away. 

“What d’ye mean, you young scalawag, a-boarding my 
craft like that?” roared the skipper, making a rush for 
him. 

He stopped suddenly, however, and then backed away 
from the frowning muzzle of Tom’s revolver. 

“I have come for your passengers, and I mean to have 
them,” coolly replied the youth. “You will save trouble, 
Captain Scroggins, by handing them over to the police.” 

“I tell yer there ain’t no persons on this craft except my 
regular crew,” blustered the skipper. 

“You are not telling the truth. I saw three old ac- 
quaintances of mine in your cabin not two hours ago.” 

“When yer was spying down my skylight, eh?” 

“Yes.” 


Startling News. 


53 


“Well, they went ashore before we left the anchorage/’ 

Could this be true? Tom hesitated for one brief mo- 
ment, and then the remembrance of the compact made in 
the cabin returned to him. No; Nicholas Flint and his 
companions must be on board. 

“I don’t believe you, captain. I know that you have the 
criminals hidden in some part of the vessel. Produce 
them, or it will be the worse for you.” 

“I tell ye I ain’t got them, and that settles it, boy. The 
best thing you can do is to call yer blamed tug alongside 
and leave this hooker,” replied the skipper. 

Tom saw that but little good would come from the pres- 
ent argument, and he resolved to act decisively without 
further delay. 

A hasty glance around showed that they were well past 
the Narrows and rapidly making for the open sea. A 
rift in the sullen clouds overhead had permitted the rays 
of a full moon to percolate down upon the scene. 

By its aid Tom saw that the tug had again crept up to 
within seven or eight yards of the gangway. On her for- 
ward deck stood the police and Professor Pickle. 

The latter was gesticulating to the sergeant, evidently 
begging him to proceed to action. 

The decks of the bark were singularly clear of men, 
only one solitary sailor being in view near the forecastle. 
Of Nicholas Flint and the others not a sign could be seen. 


54 


Startling News. 


“If the police patrol boat would only appear we’d have 
this craft searched in a jiffy,” muttered Tom, turning to 
glance astern. 

As he did so a figure darted out from the shadows of 
the after companionway and sprang upon him. Tom was 
completely taken unawares. The shock of the encounter 
caused him to reel backward, and in an instant Captain 
Scroggins had grasped him by the throat. 

There was a short struggle, the three combatants surged 
back and forth over the slippery deck, and then one of 
them broke away and ran to the port gangway. 

It was Tom. 

By his agility he had managed to wrest himself free 
from his assailants, but he was still in great danger. In 
the scrimmage the revolver had been knocked from his 
hand, rendering him entirely defenseless. In the excite- 
ment of the struggle Tom had failed to recognize the 
newcomer. He now saw that it was his old-time enemy — 
Rufus Kane. 

The presence of the latter proved conclusively that 
Scroggins had not told the truth. The three conspirators 
were still on the bark. 

Panting from his exertion, Tom climbed upon the port 
railing, and prepared to defend himself. He saw the 
skipper and Rufus rush to the ladder leading down to the 


Startling News. 55 

main deck, and then make for him at the top of their 
speed. 

The sailor near the forecastle also came hurrying aft. 
He held a heavy iron belaying-pin in one hand, evidently 
intending to use it when an opportunity presented itself. 

Tom saw at once that he could not hope to contend suc- 
cessfully with such an array of forces. Glancing about, 
he noticed a stout rope leading from the end of the main 
yardarm to the pin rail beneath his feet. 

Hastily stooping over, he loosened the rope, and just as 
Scroggins and his companions rushed up, Tom launched 
himself through the air toward the nearby tug ! 

Luckily, one of the policemen — an intelligent fellow — 
had seen the maneuver in time to spring forward. He 
reached the spot just in front of the pilot house as Tom 
came whirling over the rail. 

Opening his arms the policeman grasped the youth, 
and together they tumbled upon the desk, breathless but 
safe. 

A hoarse cry of baffled fury came from the skipper of 
the Nighthawk, then his voice was heard giving the order 
to make sail. In a very few moments the bark was cov- 
ered with canvas, which, spread to a strong breeze, blow- 
ing from off the quarter, sent her surging through the 
water. 

Springing to his feet, Tom looked ahead, and saw that 


56 


Startling News. 


the tug which had been towing the bark was now free. 
The towing hawser had been cast oif, and the vessel was 
now under her own sails. 

The professor joined him, trembling with excitement. 

^‘Thank Heaven, you are safe, Thomas !” he cried, 
grasping the youth’s hand. 

^‘It was a close call, sir,” replied Tom, smiling. ^‘They 
came pretty near catching me that time.” 

*‘You are a plucky fellow, I must say, young man,” said 
the sergeant of police, coming up. 

“If you had been more so, we’d have caught those 
scoundrels,” muttered our hero. 

The officer overheard him, and reddened, but he re- 
frained from replying. 

“I suppose we will have to give up the chase,” remarked 
the professor, impotently shaking his fist after the rapidly- 
disappearing bark. 

“Yes, we can’t do anything with the force we have,” 
replied Tom. “If the police boat had joined us we would 
have captured them. We might as well return to Staten 
Island now.” 

The tug captain was given the necessary instructions, 
and within a couple of hours Tom and the professor were 
again on board the yacht. The escape of Nicholas Flint 
and his companions was a sore disappointment, but when 
the three friends talked over the matter that night they 


Startling News. 57 

found some satisfaction in the fact that their enemies were 
out of the country^ 

“I guess we’ll run across them down South, some- 
where,” remarked Chester. 

“I hope so,” replied our hero, grimly. 

“It is fortunate we purchased those two Maxim guns, 
and the six-pounder,” said Professor Pickle, thoughtfully. 
“We may have trouble, so it is well to be prepared for it.” 

Thoroughly tired out by the excitement of the previous 
twelve hours, Tom and his companions retired to rest. 
They were up bright and early the following day. There 
was much to do, and all three set to work at once. 

The professor returned to the city for the purpose of 
arranging his affairs before the final departure. Tom ac- 
companied him as far as the ferry landing in New York, 
while Chester remained on board to receive the stores. 

Our hero went direct to a certain resort on South Street, 
where sea captains congregate. He mentioned his desire 
to engage a sailing master for an extended trip to southern 
latitudes, and in a brief space of time had half a dozen old 
skippers surrounding him. 

Selecting one — a bronzed, stalwart mariner named Silas 
Brett — he bade him report on board the yacht at once with 
his outfit. 

“I can’t give you much time,” added Tom, with a smile. 


“We leave to-morrow at daybreak.” 


58 


Startling News. 


'Time enough, sir,” replied Brett. "I havf been 
moored here for nigh onto five months, and Fd set sail this 
minute, if necessary.” 

Grasping the opporunity, Tom made a flying visit up- 
town to a certain residence not far from the park. He 
found Violet at home, and, after announcing his early de- 
parture, reluctantly left for the yacht, taking Mary Ann’s 
best wishes with him. 

The following morning the Explorer spread her white 
wings, and passed out through the Narrows, bound on her 
long voyage to southern seas. The new sailing master 
proved expert at his profession, and handled the craft in a 
thorough manner. 

Nothing of interest occurred during the trip to Cape 
Town. Day after day came and went, with an inter- 
minable monotony of sea and sky. The tropics were 
reached in due course, and for several days the yacht swel- 
tered under a burning sun, with no breeze to send her on 
her course. Then the trade winds appeared, and wafted 
by these, the Explorer finally sailed into Table Bay, drop- 
ping anchor in front of Cape Town. 

Tom lost little time in going ashore. He had the ad- 
dress of Violet’s relative, and proceeded straight to the 
office mentioned. Making himself known, he asked if 
the young lady had arrived at the Cape in good health. 


Startling News. 59 

**1 am sorry to tell you, young man, that she hasn't 
reached here yet," replied Mr. Dodge, Violet’s uncle. 

“What? Not arrived yet?" exclaimed Tom, in sur- 
prise. “Why, she was to leave New York sixty days ago 
to-day." 

“And she did leave. I have received a telegram to that 
effect, but the steamer is greatly overdue. There are 
grave doubts concerning her safety. I was just going to 
the steamship office to inquire for news. Come with me." 

Greatly depressed by the startling and totally unex- 
pected news, Tom followed Mr. Dodge from the office. 

On reaching the street, he saw Chester Gage just turn- 
ing an adjacent corner. The lad was running, and seemed 
to be laboring under intense excitement. 


CHAPTER VII. 


“burned to the water's edge/' 

When Tom saw Chester turning the corner in such 
haste, he knew by his air of excitement that something 
extraordinary must have happened, but he did not antici- 
pate the wonderful tidings his chum bore. 

Hurrying forward to meet Chester, he asked : 

“What is up, Chester? Any important news?” 

“News enough, Tom,” gasped Gage, breathing heavily. 
“The Nighthawk has just sailed into port, and I saw 
Mary Ann on board.” 

“What?” 

Tom stared at his friend in blank amazement. The 
statement that the Irishwoman — ^Violet’s maid — ^was on 
board the Nighthawk was simply beyond credence. 

“You must be dreaming, Chester,” Tom said, finally. 
“Why, Mary Ann is a passenger on a steamer bound for 
this port from Liverpool.” 

“I can’t help that,” doggedly replied Gage. “I saw her 
standing near the after-cabin of Captain Scroggins’ bark 
not an hour ago.” 

“It is utterly impossible,” still insisted Tom. “You 
have made a mistake. Probably it was some other 


‘‘Burned to the Water’s Edge.” 6i 

woman, but what any female would be doing on board the 
bark is beyond me. The Nighthawk did not have any 
passengers when she left New York, that’s certain.” 

‘T tell you it was Mary Ann. Professor Pickle and I 
were standing aft on the yacht when Captain Brett called 
out from forward that an American bark was rounding 
the point,” explained Chester. “I picked up a telescope 
and saw at once that the approaching vessel was the 
Nighthawk. Just then those on board must have recog- 
nized the Explorer, as she wore around and stood to sea 
again in a hurry.” 

“What ! Has the bark again left port ?” 

“Yes. Captain Scroggins no doubt knew that he would 
be hauled up for his actions in New York Harbor. Well, 
just as they went on the other tack, I saw a woman rush 
from the cabin and wave her arms wildly. The distance 
was not too great for me to easily recognize Mary Ann, 
and I can tell you, the discovery fairly staggered me. 
Taking a boat, I came ashore at once to tell you about it.” 

“This is simply wonderful,” exclaimed Tom. “I don’t 
know how it could happen without — yes, that must be it ! 
Chester, something terrible has undoubtedly occurred.” 

Tom rapidly explained the news he had just received 
from Mr. Dodge concerning the non-arrival of the 
steamer, and then hurriedly joining the latter gentleman — 


62 “Burned to the Water’s Edge.” 

who had remained near his office — our hero acquainted 
him with the later intelligence brought by Chester. 

^‘You say this woman is Violet’s maid?” asked Mr. 
Dodge, gravely. 

'‘Yes, and she undoubtedly left the United States with 
your niece.” 

“If there is no mistake in the matter, this places a very 
serious aspect upon the tardiness of the steamer. Come 
with me to the steamship office, and we will make in- 
quiries.” 

Accompanied by Chester, they hastened toward the har- 
bor front, and while on the way chanced to pass the office 
of a local newspaper. 

A crowd had gathered before the window, evidently 
intent on reading a large placard posted up within plain 
view. 

With a vague sinking at the heart, Tom stopped a man 
coming from the locality and asked of him the news. 

“Steamer from Liverpool burned at sea; a number of 
lives lost,” laconically replied the citizen, hurrying off to^* 
carry the intelligence elsewhere. 

Joining the increasing crowd, Tom and his companions 
read in staring headlines : 

BURNED TO THE WATER’S EDGE! 

LOSS OF THE STEAMER GANGES RIVER AT SEA ! 

Great Destruction of Human Life! . .But Few Escape! 

Full Particulars in Our Extra, Just Out! 


‘‘Burned to the Water’s Edge.” 63 

^‘Great heavens !’' groaned Mr. Dodge, ''that is the name 
of the vessel on which Violet sailed from Liverpool.’^ 

Tom gazed at the placard in silence, but his white face 
and set teeth proclaimed the emotion under which he was 
laboring. 

Darting into the office, Chester secured a paper, and im- 
mediately returned to the others. 

"It don’t give many details,” he said, hastily scanning 
the sheet. "It says that a telegram was received this 
morning from a small port thirty miles up the coast giv- 
ing the news of the burning of the Ganges River last 
night off that port. It also states that a bark, name un- 
known, rescued a couple of ladies from a raft.” 

"A couple of ladies !” exclaimed Tom, eagerly. "Why, 
then, the Nighthawk must have also picked up Violet.” 

"Very probable,” replied Mr. Dodge. "But didn’t you 
say that the vessel put to sea without having communi- 
cated with the shore ?” 

"Yes ; the captain was afraid to anchor because of our 

esence here. He probably expected to reach Cape 
Town before we did.” 

"Where can he go ?” asked Chester. "He must be short 
of provisions and water, because he left New York in a 
hurry.” 

"There are several ports near here,” replied Mr. Dodge. 

"It is my impression he will stand on and off until we 


64 ^‘Burned to the Water’s Edge.” 

leave, and then sneak in for the purpose of landing his 
passengers,’’ said Tom, reflectively. 

“I’ll bet a dollar he’ll be glad to get rid of Mary Ann,” 
chuckled Gage. “When she sees Nicholas Flint and 
Rufus Kane, there will be war on that hooker.” 

“We are wasting time here,” suddenly said Tom. “We 
must not permit them to get too great a start.” 

“Are you going to follow them with the yacht?” asked 
Chester, as the little party hastened toward the water 
front. 

“No ; I will charter a steamer if it is possible. Do you 
know of any vessel in port that we could get ?” 

The latter question was addressed to Mr. Dodge, who, 
after thinking for a moment, slowly shook his head and 
replied : 

“I don’t know of any. The regular passenger steamer 
running to England is here, but she sails to-night.” 

“Couldn’t we charter her for a couple of days ?” 

“No; she carries the mails, and her agents could not 
delay them without some very serious cause.” 

“I wish there was an American man-of-war here. The 
officers would like nothing better than a chase at sea.” 

“We haven’t seen the American flag in this port, ex- 
cept on a whaler or merchant ship, for over a year,” 
replied Violet’s uncle. “Several English warships were 


“Burned to the Water’s Edge.” 65 

in here last week, but they are now cruising on the west 
coast.’' 

A call was made to a shipping office. The man in 
charge stated that not one vessel was available for such 
a trip. 

‘‘Never mind,” said Tom, as they left the office, “the 
Explorer is speedy and well armed. We will pursue the 
Nighthawk in the yacht.” 

“It has just struck me that Nicholas Flint and his 
precious companion will try to keep Violet on board to 
get even with you,” suddenly remarked Chester. 

“By George! I believe you are right, chum,” replied 
Tom. “It would be just like him. If he tries to play a 
game like that I’ll chase him around the world a dozen 
times.” 

On reaching the wharf, Mr. Dodge stated that business 
matters would prevent him from accompanying them, but 
that he would keep a close watch for the bark and have 
her captured if she appeared anywhere along the coast. 

Tom and Chester took a boat for the yacht, and within 
an hour the Explorer was standing to sea with every stitch 
of canvas spread to a favorable breeze. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


MARY ANN CONTROLS THE SITUATION. 

Violet and Mary Ann left New York three days after 
the Explorer's departure. Their voyage to Liverpool was 
uneventful, with the exception of Mary Ann’s intense de- 
sire to visit what she called “th’ ould sod.” 

She remained on deck all one night, despite a heavy 
rain, to catch a glimpse of the green isle, and paid an enor- 
mous sum to a boatman in Liverpool for what the fellow 
assured her was the dried skin of the last snake banished 
by St. Patrick from Ireland. 

After leaving England, all went well until the evening 
before the expected final day of the long voyage. 

Just before eight o’clock fire was discovered in the 
after-hold, and, notwithstanding the strenuous efforts of 
the crew, the conflagration spread until it was deemed 
necessary to abandon the doomed craft. 

In the rush and excitement several of the boats were 
capsized. The remaining number was not sufficient to 
hold all on board, and a wild scramble ensued for places. 

Assisted by Violet — who in the emergency showed that 
she was a brave and true American girl — Mary Ann con- 
trived to form a raft of hatch gratings. 


Mary Ann Controls tHe Situation. 67 

Then, with life-preservers tied around their waists, they 
gave themselves up to the mercies of the deep. 

The frail raft kept together until a vessel bore down in 
the darkness. Violet and her companion were finally res- 
cued by the crew of the unknown bark, and the craft again 
set sail, seeing no other survivors. 

It was not until they were fairly on board that Violet 
and Mary Ann discovered the identity of their rescuers. 

The first person the Irish maid encountered after reach- 
ing the deck was Rufus Kane. The recognition was mu- 
tual, and the ex-bully of Pickle Academy gave a pro- 
longed whoop of amazement. 

“Well, ril be hung if it ain’t Mary Ann!” he cried. 
“And Violent Vaughn, too !” 

“Saints presarve us !” screeched the former. “Violet, 
look! it’s that red-headed rogue that tried to ruin Tom. 
Wirra, wirra ! what have we fallen to, a-riding on the 
same ship with such cattle ?” 

Just then Nicholas Flint and Cyrus Holt emerged from 
the shadows of the mainmast. 

The former carried a lantern, which he held so the rays 
would fall upon Violet. 

“Ah, this is quite an agreeable surprise,” he said, 
suavely. “We certainly did not expect to have the ex- 
treme pleasure of rescuing my late ward’s lady friend 
to-night.” 


68 Mary Ann Controls the Situation. 

^‘We are obliged to you,” coldly replied Violet. 

In her secret heart she would far rather have trusted to 
the raft for safety. She knew Nicholas Flint’s history, 
and the bitterness of his hatred toward Tom. 

In the meantime Cyrus Holt, in an uncouth attempt to 
be gallant, had seized Mary Ann’s hand. 

Jerking it away from him with a force that almost sent 
him sprawling, she gave the astounded man a resound- 
ing slap across the cheek. Then tossing her head, Mary 
Ann said, in a lofty tone, to her mistress : 

‘‘Come to th’ cabin, dharling, an’ lave thim brutes to 
thimsilves. It’s honored they should be that we’d con- 
descend to travel an their ould ship.” 

Suddenly interposing himself, Nicholas Flint said, 
roughly : 

“Keep a civil tongue in your head, woman, or we’ll give 
you a taste of our discipline, do you understand that ?” 

“Yis,” replied Mary Ann, with dangerous calmness. 

“Well, you will both remain here until we decide what 
to do with you.” 

“We are to wait here, eh?” 

“Yes.” 

“We can’t widdraw to th’ cabin out of th’ cold, eh?” 

“Not until I see the captain. He is in his room ill, 
and ” 

Nicholas Flint was suddenly interrupted by a maudlin 


Mary Ann Controls the Situation. 69 

shout from the after deck, and Captain Scroggins’ burly 
form came staggering toward the gangway. 

“What’s this — this I hear ’bout burning steamer and — 
and people being picked up, eh?” he stammered. “Don’t 
want any — any people to feed, d’ye hear? Got enough 
already. Running short provisions and — and ” 

At that moment the bark gave a lurch, and the redoubt- 
able skipper reeled to leeward, bringing up in the scuppers 
on all fours. 

He was assisted to his feet by one of the crew, who re- 
ceived a treacherous kick for his reward. Then, stagger- 
ing up to the group near the side, the skipper suddenly 
espied Mary Ann. 

“What!” he roared, rubbing his eyes in amazement. 
“Why, it’s women as has been saved from the briny, eh? 
Blast me, if it ain’t. How-de-do, Mrs. Wot-yer-name? 
Glad to — to see you. I’m sure.” 

Lurching over, he attempted to shake hands with the 
Irishwoman. That was the last straw. Already boiling 
over with rage at Nicholas Flint’s insolence, Mary Ann 
exploded. 

Giving vent to a whoop that rang through the ship, she 
pounced upon the startled skipper and clawed his face 
with her sharp nails until he fairly howled for mercy. 

“We are lone females in th’ hands of the inimy,” she 
shouted, emphasizing each word with an extra scratch. 


70 Mary Ann Controls the Situation. 

“but it’s mesilf as is not afraid of any man that walks an 
two legs.” 

Leaving Scroggins completely vanquished, Mary Ann 
darted toward Nicholas Flint, and before he could escape, 
she had clutched him by his whiskers. 

“We’ll wait yer pleasure out here, eh?” she asked, tug- 
ging away at the hair. “It’s yersilf as wants to discipline 
me, is it ? Ooh ! yer ould brute, Ol’ll tache ye to respect 
Mary Ann if it takes me all night.” 

“Help, murder ! take her off, some one !” cried her vic- 
tim, struggling in her hands like an infant. 

The ex-cook of Simper Seminary was heculcan in her 
strength and entirely guiltless of fear. Her anger had 
been aroused by the shabby treatment accorded Violet and 
herself, and she resolved to settle the question then and 
there. 

She also remembered the trouble caused her favorite, 
Tom Truxton, by his enemies, and the latent flame of re- 
venge again burst forth. 

Giving Nicholas Flint a toss that sent him stumbling 
over the skipper, Mary Ann glared around for fresh 
victims. 

The deck was clear. 

Warned by their companions’ fate, Cyrus Holt and 
Rufus Kane had taken refuge in flight. Hastily climbing 


Mary Ann Controls the Situation. 71 

the main shrouds, they perched themselves upon the rat- 
lines and peered down in fear and trembling. 

The half dozen sailors had also retreated to a safe dis- 
tance, where they stood convulsed with laughter at the 
plight of their brutal skipper. 

Placing her arms akimbo, Mary Ann abused every one 
within hearing collectively and individually until her voice 
failed ; then taking Violet by the arm, she marched aft 
with great dignity. 

After entering the cabin, she locked all the doors, and 
seated herself so as to command every entrance. 

'‘Don’t ye worry, dharling,” she said to Violet who was 
quietly crying from the reaction. "J^^t go to slape, that’s 
a dear. If thim brutes try to come here Oi’ll folly up the 
lesson already comminced.” 

Twenty minutes later a timid knock sounded at the door 
leading out on the deck. 

"Wot do ye be wantin’ ?” called out Mary Ann, fiercely. 

"We would like to get our blankets,” quaved the voice 
of Captain Scroggins from a distance. 

"Ye can’t have thim.” 

"But it’s cold out on deck.” 

"Phy shouldn’t it be ? Go an, now, and don’t be bother- 
ing us. Ye’ll git in whin we reach Cape Town, and not a 
minute before.” 


72 Mary Ann Controls tlie Situation. 

“Open the door, ye old vixen, or I’ll break it down,” 
suddenly shouted the skipper, becoming bold. 

Mary Ann sprang from her seat, but before she could 
reach the entrance, the sound of rapidly retreating foot- 
steps was heard on deck. The captain had evidently 
thought better of his proposition. 

Mary Ann remained on watch all night, Violet sleep- 
ing fitfully on one of the cushioned transoms. Shortly 
after daybreak the Nighthawk sailed around the western 
point of Table Bay, only to find Tom’s yacht riding at 
anchor off the town. 

Captain Scroggins and his companions knew perfectly 
well that to remain meant certain arrest, so they re- 
luctantly put to sea again, with the intention of hovering 
about the port until the Explorer departed. 

Violet and Mary Ann saw the maneuver, but they were 
powerless to prevent it. The Irish maid hastened on deck 
in time to wave her arms toward the yacht. Her keen 
eyes told her that she had succeeded in attracting atten- 
tion, and she again retired to give the cheering intelligence 
to her young mistress. 

“We’ll soon be beyant the power av these brutes, dhar- 
ling,” she said. “Tom will niver rist ontil he has ye safe, 
moind that. We’ve lashings av grub and water inside 
here, and all we nade to do is to wait developments.” 


CHAPTER IX. 


THE CHASE. 

In the meantime the yacht with her eager crew was 
beating back and forth in the open waters outside of Table 
Bay, anxiously waiting for a chance to sight the bark. 

Several precious hours had elapsed before the anchor 
was hoisted, so when the Explorer finally cleared the land, 
not a trace of the Nighthawk was visible. 

“She must call in somewhere before long,” said Tom, 
taking great consolation from the fact. “They are un- 
doubtedly short of both provisions and water after their 
seventy-day trip.” 

“There are only two places around here where they 
can get stores,” replied Captain Brett. “One is up the 
coast, and the other is around toward the west.” 

“That complicates matters exceedingly,” remarked the 
professor. “It makes us absolutely uncertain of the direc- 
tion they have taken. This delay is very annoying. I 
wanted to sail for the unknown island to-night or in the 
morning at least.” 

“That is now out of the question, professor,” replied 
Tom, with determination. “Our first duty is to rescue 
Violet and Mary Ann from the clutches of those scoun- 


The Chase. 


74 

drels. When that is accomplished, we will proceed with 
the expedition/’ 

Giving a sigh of resignation, Professor Pickle withdrew 
to his private cabin, where he soon forgot his troubles in 
a recent work on botany. 

Tom and Chester went aloft with powerful glasses and 
kept a close watch on the surrounding waters until late in 
the afternoon. Then, just as they were preparing to de- 
scend for a light lunch, the former espied the topsail of a 
vessel above the edge of the eastern horizon. 

''Deck ahoy!” he instantly shouted. "Sail on the port 
quarter. Ware and stand for it at once.” 

"Pll bet it is the Nighthawk T exclaimed Chester, jubi- 
lantly. "They have stood out to sea for several miles and 
are now returning to reconnoiter.” 

Descending to the deck, Tom ordered every sail set 
that would draw. During the long voyage from New 
York both he and Chester had taken practical lessons in 
seamanship and navigation, with such good results that 
either could take charge of the yacht in ordinary weather. 

They now turned to with a vim and assisted the crew 
in spreading the canvas. The fore and mainsails were set, 
together with the different staysails and jibs. To increase 
their drawing power, Tom ordered water thrown upon 
each canvas. 


The Chase. 


75 

*‘If she don’t sight us too soon we’ll have a chance,” he 
said to Chester. 

“The weather looks squally, and night is not far off,” 
replied the latter, dubiously. “It is my opinion we’ll be 
extremely lucky if we get anywhere near the bark.” 

“What do you think of the weather, captain?” Tom 
asked Brett. 

The old skipper squinted aloft and then slowly swept 
the heavens with his experienced eye. Shaking his head, 
he replied : 

“Looks as if we are going to have a stormy night, sir. 
There is a heaviness in the air what speaks of rain, if noth- 
ing more. Ye can’t alius sometimes tell in these here lati- 
toods, however. I have seen thunder come from a clear 
sky to the east’ard of the cape, and one night, about ten 
years ago, it began to pour down bits of cinders and dust 
until we had a deck load in half a minute.” 

“Must have come from some volcano in action,” sug- 
gested Tom. 

“I dunno. The nearest mountain was on the island of" 
Java, about two thousand miles from our position at that 
time. Howsomever, that ain’t the question just now. If 
I’m not mistaken that there bark is going to tack.” 

Grasping a spyglass, Tom eagerly leveled it at the dis- 
tant vessel, and saw that Brett was right. Even as he 


76 The Chase. 

looked the bark came slowly around to the wind and then 
edged away in the opposite direction. 

“They have made us out,” exclaimed Tom, excitedly. 
“They are crowding on sail and are standing away from 
us.” 

“Now for a chase,” shouted Chester, giving his cap a 
toss in the air. “They haven’t more than four or five 
miles the best of us, and the Explorer ought to lessen that 
without any trouble.” 

“The bark is a fast sailer, young man,” remarked the 
skipper, dubiously. “Ye must remember that she made 
as quick time from the United States as we.” 

“Oh, I think we can overhaul her if we have time 
enough,” said Tom. “If it was only morning instead of 
near sundown. I am afraid they will double on us during 
the night.” 

“Why not try a shot at her if we draw close enough be- 
fore dark ?” suggested Chester. 

“Rip my topsail ! but that’s a splendid idea,” exclaimed 
Captain Brett, enthusiastically. “Just slap a few shells 
into the bark’s sides and they’ll heave to quick enough.” 

“I don’t want to do that, as there are ladies on board,” 
replied our hero, thinking of Violet. “But we’ll fire a 
couple of blank charges.” 

“It’ll have no more effect on them than a pinch of snuff 


The Chase. 


77 

on a brass monkey,” snorted the skipper. “Can’t ye trust 
to hulling her forward somewhere ?” 

“No; I won’t take the risk,” decided Tom. “But get 
the gun out of the hold at once, captain.” 

In the course of a half hour the six-pounder rapid-fire 
rifle was placed in position upon the forecastle and loaded 
with a blank shell. 

By that time Brett had by careful observation with his 
sextant ascertained that the yacht was gaining on the 
bark. The distance between the two vessels had been les- 
sened considerably and when Tom was ready to try his 
experiment, the Nighthawk was only three miles away. 

“I believe I will fire a loaded shell,” suddenly remarked 
Tom. “I think I can send one over their heads without 
any danger.” 

“It will have a far greater effect,” coincided Chester. 
“It would be even better if you could hit the hull forward 
of the mainmast.” 

The rifle was quickly reloaded, and taking careful aim, 
Tom pulled the trigger. There was a loud report, the 
smoke cleared away, and then those on board the yacht 
uttered a hearty cheer. 

The result exceeded Tom’s greatest anticipation. 

The steersman on the bark abandoned the wheel in the 
sudden panic caused by the shot, and in less than a mo- 
ment the vessel was taken aback. 


78 


The Chase. 


Heeled over by the strong breeze, she rolled bulwark 
under, and if it had not been for the snapping of the main 
topmast, serious consequences might have resulted. 

As it was the bark lost her headway for the time being. 
The delay was but brief, however. Men swarmed aloft, 
and in an incredibly short space of time the wreck of the 
topmast had been cleared away. 

Before the yacht had covered much more than a mile, 
the Nighthawk was again under way. The chase had not 
yet ended. 



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CHAPTER X. 


PERIL THREATENS. 

Tom muttered an exclamation of disappointment when 
he saw the bark again under sail. It meant a continuation 
of the pursuit and the prolongation of Violet’s stay on 
board. 

“Confound it ! I have a notion to give them a dose of 
steel,” he said, addressing Chester. 

“Why don’t you? Night is almost here, and if I am not 
mistaken we will have a fog before many minutes.” 

“You are right, my lad,” remarked the skipper, point- 
ing astern. “There comes a wet blanket for us, or I am 
a lawyer.” 

Tom glanced at the wall of mist rapidly rolling toward 
them, then gave orders to load the rifle with a solid shot. 
After taking a long and very careful aim at the extreme 
upper part of the mainmast, he discharged the gun. 

“A good line shot, but it didn’t do much damage,” cried 
Chester, peering through a spyglass. “You have again 
aroused them up, though. There goes the man at the 
wheel — ah ! another one has taken his place, and it looks 
like Scroggins. I can see old Flint and Cyrus Holt stand- 


So Peril Threatens. 

ing near the mizzenmast. They are shaking their fists to- 
ward us.’’ 

Before Tom had time to fire another shot, the fog 
closed down on them, and pursuer and pursued were as 
completely hidden from each other as if a solid wall had 
been built between them. 

When the first gun was fired the professor popped on 
deck with his precious book under his arm. He now took 
an active part in the chase, spurred on, no doubt, by the 
annoying prospect of delay to the expedition. 

At his suggestion the yacht’s bow was turned in the 
direction of Table Bay, and part of the canvas furled. 

“Our wisest plan is to guard the port,” he added. “I 
think they will try to steal in and secure stores, expecting 
us to remain outside looking for them.” 

“Well, if they do that, we’ll fool them,” said Chester, 
grimly. 

“If they don’t bamboozle us first,” added Captain 
Brett. “Them people are smart, and good sailors. The 
way they cleared the wreck of that main topmast proves 
that.” 

“I believe the fog is lifting,” suddenly cried Tom. “Ah ! 
you can make out the hull of the bark.” 

“By Jove! they are standing toward us,” exclaimed 
Chester. “There they go on the other tack — they have 
seen the yacht.” 


Peril Threatens. 


8i 


“After them,” Tom shouted excitedly. “Spread every 
stitch of canvas you can, Captain Brett.” 

“It’s hardly safe, sir,” replied the old skipper, gravely 
shaking his head. “We’re liable to have a squall at any 
moment. This is a treacherous place down here, and ” 

“They are out of sight again,” interrupted the pro- 
fessor. “The fog has closed down once more.” 

The heavy curtain of mist which had risen slightly 
above the water now settled more thickly than before. 
The gathering darkness was also becoming more ap- 
parent, and it seemed evident that the chase would be a 
game of hide and seek in earnest. 

The yacht was kept under shortened sail, and a course 
steered for Table Bay. A half hour later a strong breeze 
began to blow from the west, increasing finally into a gale. 

The fog disappeared, but the gloom of night enshrouded 
the sea so densely that not a sign of the bark could be 
distinguished. 

Muffled in oilskins, Tom and Chester paced the quarter- 
deck with the skipper, conversing as well as the tumult 
of the storm permitted. The Explorer was staggering 
along under double-reefed mainsail and jib, making heavy 
weather of it. 

“I reckon we’d better run in and anchor until this here 
gale blows over,” roared Captain Brett, placing his mouth 
close to Tom's ear. 


82 Peril Threatens. 

“All right; do as you think best/’ replied the youth in 
the same tone. 

“It kinder feels like a squall I once ’sperienced in the 
China Sea. It was what they call an electrical storm, and 
I can tell ye the pranks the lightning played around our 
hooker was a caution. We was struck thirteen times and 
when it was over our lightning rods lay around the decks 
all melted ” 

The garrulous skipper’s description was suddenly in- 
terrupted in a most startling manner. 

A flash of lightning so broad and vivid that it turned 
the black night into the bright glare of noonday sun shot 
athwart the sky, immediately followed by another of equal 
intensity. 

Then there appeared at the extreme tip of the bowsprit 
a living ball of fire which rolled down to the forecastle 
deck to be suddenly extinguished as it reached the fore- 
mast. 

Before those standing aft could recover from their sur- 
prise, they were almost blinded by a dazzling light which 
appeared directly overhead. 

Tom, who was standing near the starboard rail, caught 
a momentary glimpse of a reddish globe which fell with a 
hissing noise into the sea not ten feet away. 

A resounding splash was heard by all, and then a huge 
cloud of steam arose from the spot. 


Peril Tlireatens. 83 

The man at the wheel, terror-stricken, abandoned his 
station and fell prone upon the deck, where he lay quiver- 
ing from fright. This left the yacht without a guiding 
hand, and in the space of a moment she spun around, 
forced over by the gale onto her beam-ends. 

There was a sound of rending canvas, and the enormous 
mainsail was torn from the ring bolts, vanishing in the 
gloom to windward like a wraith of the sea. 

Tom, who was thrown against the bulwarks at the 
first shock, managed to regain his feet, but not in time to 
prevent the disaster. Staggering aft, he grasped the 
wheel, and, aided by Captain Brett who reached the spot 
at the same moment, managed to work the imperiled yacht 
before the wind again. 

Then, just as they were mentally congratulating them- 
selves, a flash of lightning again illuminated the scene, ex- 
posing to view not a hundred yards distant the huge hull 
of the bark, bearing down upon them from off the quarter 
at a terrific speed 1 


CHAPTER XL 


ONE CONSOLATION. 

The sudden appearance of the Nighthawk bearing down 
upon them was so entirely unexpected that Tom and Cap- 
tain Brett were rendered spellbound for the moment. 

The flash of lightning left the darkness more intense 
than before, but sight was not needed for the action that 
followed. Both Tom and his companion clawed at the 
wheel until the rudder-blocks became jammed, then they 
stood and held their breaths in dread expectation. 

But the collision did not take place as anticipated. 

Luckily the yacht had steerage-way, and she paid off 
just in time. With a roar and a surge the invisible craft 
shot past, carrying a swell that caused the Explorer to roll 
swiftly from side to side. 

“By the great horn spoon came to Tom’s ears from 
the old skipper. “May I never see York again if that 
there wasn’t the narrowest escape this ancient mariner has 
ever experienced.” 

Tom gave a deep sigh of relief, but did not reply ; the 
revulsion of feeling was too much for him. ^ 

A moment later Chester and the professor came creep- 
ing aft. The latter was speechless from excitement and 


One Consolation. 85 

terror, and his youthful companion had lost his jovial 
spirits for the time being. 

“Is — is the danger past 1 ” at last asked Professor Pickle, 
placing one hand on Tom’s shoulder as if for protection. 

“Not while we stand here in idleness,” replied our hero, 
trying to pierce the darkness in the direction taken by the 
bark. 

“You are right, sir,” spoke up the skipper. 

Giving himself a shake, the old sailor strode forward, 
and his voice was soon heard issuing order after order to 
the seamen. 

“I tell you I thought our last hour had come,” remarked 
Gage, with a rather blank smile. ‘The appearance of 
those confounded lights and balls of fire sent a regiment 
of shivers chasing up and down my back. Then the bark 
must happen along and almost run into us. I’ll bet a war 
whoop to an echo that the paint has all been scraped off 
on that side.” 

“The first was an imaginary danger, but the latter one 
was real enough,” spoke up the professor. “The first light 
we saw was what is termed a Saint Elmo light, but I think 
the one that fell alongside must have been a small 
meteor.” 

“The ‘ker-plunk’ it gave when it struck the water 
seemed loud enough for a whole planet,” replied Chester, 


86 


One Consolation. 


with his old-time laugh. guess if it had struck you on 
the head, professor, you would have seen the Milky Way.” 

At that juncture Captain Brett came aft and reported 
that only the storm trysail remained intact. 

'The rest are either blown to ribbons or else carried 
away entirely,” he added. “And I think the mainmast is 
sprung a little.” 

“That’s bad,” said Tom, gravely. “The gale don’t seem 
to abate any, either. What do you advise ?” 

“Well, I don’t like to have you give up the chase, sir,” 
replied old Brett ; “but we can’t spread any canvas on that 
mast until it is repaired, and ” 

“We will put back at once,” interrupted Tom ; then he 
added, with a sigh : 

“We are certainly having hard luck. We can’t work 
impossibilities, however. Send a man to the wheel, cap- 
tain, and make the best of your way into Table Bay.” 

Crippled as the yacht was, progress was slow, and day- 
light appeared before the anchor was again dropped off 
Cape Town. 

Nothing further had been seen of the Nighthawk, and 
Tom’s anxiety became almost unbearable. He hastened 
ashore, and after acquainting Mr. Boyd with the latest 
news, again tried to charter a steamship, but without 
success. 

To make matters worse, the shipwright for whom they 


One Consolation. 


87 


had sent reported that it would take at least forty-eight 
hours to repair the yacht. As it was entirely out of the 
question to sail without the work, he was given orders to 
proceed at once. 

Nothing of interest occurred until the following day 
shortly after dinner. Tom moped about the deck or made 
frequent trips to the masthead for the purpose of watch- 
ing the entrance of the bay. 

Chester followed his chum around during the first few 
hours, and then left him in disgust. The professor seized 
the opportunity to go plant-hunting ashore, and Captain 
Brett busied himself taking in the required stores. 

At the time mentioned, Tom chanced to observe a ves- 
sel standing for the harbor under full sail. Taking Ches- 
ter and two men, he immediately rowed out to met the 
stranger just after the anchor was dropped. 

Hastily climbing on board, our hero asked the bronzed 
skipper if he had seen anything of a bark flying the Amer- 
ican flag near the coast. 

‘‘Did she have a jury maintopmast?’* 

“Yes.” 

“And was her name the Nighthawkf** 

“Yes, yes; did you meet her, sir?” eagerly questioned 
Tom. 

“I reckon I did,” replied the captain, with provoking 
calmness. 


88 


One Consolation. 


“Where, man?’’ 

“About a hundred miles southeast of here. Why, what 
is the matter with her ?” 

Tom hastily explained. 

“Rolling waves ! you don’t mean to tell me as how they 
have carried two females away, do ye?” ejaculated the 
captain. “Why, if I had known that I’d never have sold 
them any stores.” 

“Stores?” shouted Tom, aghast. “Did you supply ” 

“Yes, I sold the blamed scoundrels almost all my pro- 
visions and water. They told me they were in a great 
hurry and hadn’t no time to touch on the Cape, so as they 
offered me fancy prices I obleeged them.” 

Tom elevated his hands with a gesture of despair. 

“You could not have done anything worse, sir,” he re- 
plied, bitterly. “Now, it is a question whether we ever 
catch them or not.” 

“Did you see any signs of Miss Vaughn or her maid on 
board?” asked Chester. 

“No ; but I noticed that the cabin windows were all bar- 
ricaded, which is something unusual.” 

“In which direction did they sail after leaving you?” 
Tom asked the skipper. 

“About so’-so’-east.” 

Our hero gave his companion a meaning glance. 


One Consolation. 


89 


^‘Toward the island, eh ?” whispered Chester. 

Tom nodded. It was plainly evident to him that Cap- 
tain Scroggins had gone in search of the mysterious land 
of the famous botanical plant without further delay, and 
had taken Violet and Mary Ann with him. 

Only one course remained to be pursued, as he told 
Chester after they had left the bark, and that was to set 
sail at once in search of them. 

'T think Captain Scroggins concluded it was impos- 
sible to land, so he seized the opportunity of obtaining 
stores from this vessel and then continued his voyage,” he 
added. ^T wouldn’t have cared a rap for him or all the 
plants in the world if they only had left Violet in Cape 
Town.” 

‘That is so,” replied Chester, sympathetically. 

Then he brightened up and added : 

“You mustn’t forget that Mary Ann is with her, old 
boy. That woman is a whole host in herself. I’d back 
her against Nicholas Flint and all his crew in strength 
and cunning.” 

“That is my one consolation,” responded Tom, almost 
cheerfully. 

On reaching the yacht they found that the shipwrights 
had worked to such good effect that it would be possible to 


One Consolation. 


90 

sail before midnight. Toward evening Professor Pickle 
returned with his arms full of specimens. 

On being given the latest news by Tom, he replied, 
absent-mindedly : 

“Good ! Just exactly what I desired. Could not be bet- 
ter. Now 

“What?’’ exclaimed our hero, indignantly. “Do you 
mean to say that you are glad to hear that Violet has been 
carried away ?” 

“No — no,” replied the professor, confusedly. “I am 
sorry that she was not landed by those scoundrels, but if 
they had to sail somewhere I would rather they’d go to- 
ward the island. We can now kill two birds with one 
stone, as it were — ^rescue your friends and obtain the speci- 
mens. They may be hard to find, but if we search the 
island carefully and look in all the moist spots, we’ll run 
across them sooner or later. From an artistic point of 
view they may be hideous, but ” 

“What! Violet hideous?” exclaimed Tom, hotly. 

“Violet? Who is talking about that young lady?” re- 
plied the professor, in surprise. “I mean the specimens of 
the genus Allium, sir.” 

“Oh, that’s different,” answered our hero, with a laugh. 
“I thought it would be rather a peculiar idea to look for 
Violet and Mary Ann in tha moist spots on the island.” 


One Consolation. 91 

Peace being restored, Tom turned his attention to the 
various preparations for leaving port. Shortly after eleven 
the anchor was weighed, and the Explorer again sailed 
from Table Bay, this time on a voyage which was destined 
to prove one of great peril to Tom and his friends. 


CHAPTER XIL 


THE ICEBERG. 

*T tell ye I have carefully searched every chart on 
board, and I can't see the slightest trace of an island in 
these seas,” remarked Captain Brett to Tom, one evening 
about a week after leaving Cape Town. 

“But Scroggins certainly ran across it,” replied that 
youth, emphatically. 

“It s not known to navigators, anyway.” 

“That may be, as he stated that it was almost two thou- 
sand miles from the Cape, in a southeasterly direction.” 

The old skipper shook his head doubtfully. 

“It was an iceberg, then,” he said, “which reminds me 
that we may sight ice before long. I think I’ll put on a 
double watch to-night. In these latitoods there is no tell- 
ing when you’ll meet a berg or one of them pesky fields 
floating around. I remember ” 

He suddenly ceased speaking and sniffed the air in a 
suspicious manner. 

“What is the matter?” asked Tom. 

“If my old smeller hasn’t gone back on me I’ll bet there 
is ice not far off,” replied Captain Brett, uneasily. 


The Iceberg. 93 

‘^Hadn’t we better take in sail?” queried Chester, who 
was standing near. 

Just then a wild shout of alarm came from the lookout 
on the forecastle : 

“Hard aport ! Hard aport ! There’s ice dead ahead !” 

“Great Jones ! I knew it !” cried the skipper, huskily. 

Darting aft he hurled himself upon the wheel, and, 
aided by the seaman on duty there, sent the spokes spin- 
ning from left to right at lightning speed. 

At the same moment Tom — quick to see their danger — 
cast off the main sheet, causing the huge sail to flap free. 

Chester was equally alert, doing a like service forward, 
and the yacht whirled around and came up to the wind 
with a suddenness that sent her heeling over until the lee 
rail was level with the water. 

Immediately following came a sudden grinding noise, 
and then the long bowsprit snapped off close to the heel 
with a sharp report like that of a pistol. 

“Jumping Jerusalem! We’ve struck a berg!” shouted 
Tom, running forward. 

He had hardly reached the break of the forecastle when, 
with a crash, a white mass of ice fell from above, striking 
the deck not three feet from him. 

“Are you hurt, Tom ?” asked Chester, anxiously. 

“No, but it was a very narrow escape,” replied our hero. 
“Where is the professor ?” 


94 


The Iceberg. 

Before Gage could answer, a figure darted from the 
cabin hatch and ran toward them. Stumbling against 
fragments of ice, it fell sprawling upon the deck. 

“There he is. I’ll bet a dollar,” said Chester, chuckling 
despite the gravity of their situation. 

“What is the matter? Have we reached the island? 
Can I go ashore now?” came in short, jerky words from 
Professor Pickle, as he scrambled to his feet. 

Just then Captain Brett came toward them, puffing and 
blowing from his exertions. He appeared greatly excited, 
and made the alarming announcement that the yacht was 
hard and fast. 

“We have run into a field of ice or something,” he 
added, “and I believe we are stuck on a partially sub- 
merged piece. You can tell from the fact that the yacht 
is still listed to port.” 

“It must be a berg,” replied Tom, “as several frag- 
ments have already fallen from aloft.” 

“If it was only daylight we could tell where we are,” 
said Chester. 

“Why not start a flare on the forecastle?” suggested 
Tom. 

The idea was immediately carried into execution, and a 
moment later a bright glare illuminated the scene from 
a huge wood fire built upon a sheet of iron near the 
foremast. 




The Iceberg. 95 

Aft and on the starboard side nothing but the open sea 
could be distinguished, but ahead and on the port bow a 
steely white mass of ice arose far above the masts of the 
Explorer, 

It was as Tom had said. The yacht had come into 
collision with a huge iceberg, and it was plainly apparent 
that only the sudden sheering of the craft, in obedience to 
the rudder, had saved them from total destruction. 

A closer examination revealed the alarming fact that 
the Explorer was tightly wedged in a crack in the icy wall 
of the berg, the after part of the hull being upon a sub- 
merged shelf. 

Captain Brett’s face was pale in the bright glare of the 
fire when he turned to Tom, and gave him the above in- 
telligence. 

‘We are in a pretty bad fix, sir,” he said, gravely. “As 
far as I can now see, the yacht is done for.” 

“Is it as bad as that?” asked our hero. “Don’t you 
think we can float her again ?” 

“I am afraid not. We struck the berg a slanting blow 
just where the ice sloped up from the water’s surface, and 
the force sent us onto this shelf.” 

“What can we do, oh ! what can we do now ?” moaned 
the professor, wringing his hands in despair. “Can’t we 
go ahead in the small boats and find the island? Just 


96 The Iceberg. 

think of being this near to the place where I expected and 
hoped to find innumerable specimens of the ” 

'‘Oh! confound the blamed old onions!” exclaimed 
Chester, forgetting the respect due the scientist in the ex- 
citement of the moment. "If we escape with our lives 
we’ll be lucky, let alone finding any genus Alliums or such 
trash.” 

"I guess you are about right, chum,” said Tom, with a 
grim smile. "If we don’t succeed in freeing the poor Ex- 
plorer from her icy fetters we’ll have a hard tussle getting 
back to civilization.” 

"It is a mercy that our boats were not smashed,” spoke 
up the old skipper. "If the worst comes we’ll have to 
trust our lives to them. Howsomever, we can’t say what’s 
what till daylight lends us a hand. If ye take my advice 
ye’ll all pile into the cabin, out o’ the way of falling ice. I 
see that some of the pinnacles are hanging directly over 
us, and the least thing’ll cause them to drap.” 

The warning caused the professor to beat a hasty re- 
treat to his room, where he was observed shortly after- 
ward buried in his books. 

"Just as soon as the sun appears we must make a 
thorough inspection of our position,” said Tom, after they 
had entered the cabin. "I have an idea that we may be 
able to do something with powder.” 

"Blast away the shelf ?” asked Chester. 


The Iceberg. 97 

‘*Yes, if it be possible. The only danger we need fear 
is that the shock may cause a fall of ice sufficient to crush 
or seriously damage the craft.^^ 

“It is a good scheme, sir,’’ said Captain Brett, “and I 
think it’ll work. The yacht is still whole, not making a 
drap o’ water, and the spars are sound as a dollar, barring 
the bowsprit. We can easily rig one o’ them.” 

It was a long and anxious wait until daylight. None 
slept except Professor Pickle, who was so deeply en- 
grossed in his scientific studies that he really did not 
realize their danger. 

At last a grayish light crept through the little apart- 
ment, proclaiming the coming of dawn. At the first sign, 
Tom and his companions went on deck and looked about 
them. 

The scene presented to their gaze was impressive. 

Close on the port bow a huge wall of ice towered above 
the yacht at least two hundred feet. Crevices and pin- 
nacles, glittering spurs of transparent ice, and hummocks 
and knolls of snow barred their way in front, while astern 
stretched a calm expanse of sea as far as the eye could 
reach 


CHAPTER XIIL 


TOM MAKES A DISCOVERY. 

Tom’s first duty was to carefully examine the yacht’s 
position. Together with Chester and the skipper, he 
sounded the depth of water from bow to stern, finding an 
average of barely seven feet both fore and aft. 

As seen in broad daylight, their situation was not so 
grave. The icy shelf upon which the Explorer had run 
only extended a few feet astern, and those on board felt 
their spirits rise when they observed the apparent ease 
with which the shelf could be destroyed. 

As Tom had stated, the greatest danger to be appre- 
hended was from the overhanging precipices of ice loom- 
ing menacingly overhead. One of these spurs hung di- 
rectly above the quarter-deck, and seemed to be of many 
tons weight. 

“If that ever takes a notion to fall, it’ll be good-by 
yacht,” remarked Chester, rather seriously. 

“Ye’re right there, lad,” replied Captain Brett; “but 
we’ve got to take the risk, or leave the Explorer here.” 

“I’m going to climb up and examine it,” suddenly spoke 
up Tom. 


Tom Makes a Discovery. 99 

“And I am with you,” joined in Gage. “If we only had 
our skates we could take a spin, eh ?” 

“We will leave that sport until we reach home,” replied 
Tom, grimly. “If you are coming with me, chum, just 
drop your fun and attend to business. I am not going up 
there for pleasure nor for the view.” 

After administering this rebuke to Chester, who simply 
noticed it with a good-natured grin, Tom improvised an 
alpenstock from a long pole and a spike, and then set forth 
with his friend. 

The impending journey was not devoid of peril by any 
means, and our hero proceeded with extreme caution. 
Both he and Chester had covered their shoes with coarse 
woolen stockings, which prevented them from slipping, 
and each was provided with a short coil of rope. 

From the railing to the nearest point of ice was only 
four or five feet. As it was on the same level as the deck, a 
plank was placed across the space, and the two youths 
passed it in safety. 

Pausing for a moment, they waved their hands to the 
professor and Captain Brett, and then began the ascent to 
the top of the berg. 

“This is like climbing the Matterhorn, Tom,” gayly re- 
marked Chester, hopping from point to point of the ir- 
regular surface. “It is more sport than I ” 

“Crack!” went the fragment of ice upon which the 


ILofC. 


loo Tom Makes a Discovery. 

speaker had just stepped, and Gage found himself flat on 
his back, with a suddenness that deprived him of speech 
for a moment. 

Tom hastened to his aid, and speedily had him upon his 
feet again. 

“That’ll teach you a lesson, young man,” he said, chuc- 
kling at Chester’s blank expression of disgust. “Come on 
now, and be more careful, or I’ll send you back to the 
Explorer'' 

After shaking his fist at the old skipper, who was 
shouting with laughter on the quarter-deck of the yacht, 
the discomfited youth followed Tom up the almost perpen- 
dicular sides of the berg. 

It was only by taking advantage of every projection and 
cranny that they were enabled to make any progress at 
all. In some places the masses of ice were loose, and the 
slightest touch would send them crashing down the sides 
of the berg to the water’s edge. 

After traveling for fifty or sixty feet, Tom called a halt 
on a narrow shelf. 

“We will rest a moment, and prepare for the next 
stretch,” he said; then, glancing down to where Profes- 
sor Pickle was anxiously watching their efforts, he waved 
his hand, as a token that all was well. 

“I wonder where the Nighthawk is by this time, chum ?” 


Tom Makes a Discovery. loi 

asked Chester, musingly. ‘‘She now has almost three 
days the start of us, you know.” 

Tom's brow clouded over at the recollection of Violet's 
situation, thus called up, and he did not reply for a brief 
period. At last he turned to his companion, and said, with 
evident emotion : 

“Chester, I would willingly give everything I have on 
earth if Violet was free from those scoundrels, and safe 
in Cape Town.'' 

“I sympathize with you, chum; but I can't help think- 
ing that she is all right. So long as Mary Ann can swing 
that right arm of hers, old Flint and his crew will keep 
their distance, I'll bet a dollar. I have an idea that we 
will run across them before long, anyway. Night before 
last I dreamed that '' 

“Oh, shut up !'' interrupted Tom, impatiently. “Dreams 
don't count, confound you !'' 

“But this was a funny one,'' persisted Chester, laugh- 
ingly. “I thought I saw Rufus Kane stretched out on the 
bark's forecastle, with Mary Ann dancing a hornpipe upon 
his neck, and Violet keeping time with '' 

“That will do, young man,'' said Tom, hastily chan- 
ging the subject. “We had better be moving. There will 
be lots to do this morning, and we don't want to waste any 
time starting to work.” 

“What will you do in case the yacht can’t be freed from 


102 Tom Makes a Discovery. 

her present fix?” asked Chester, rising to follow his com- 
panion. 

The question caused Tom to step toward the edge of the 
shelf upon which they were standing. Thoughtfully 
glancing down to where the Explorer lay, partially ca- 
reened on the ledge of ice, he replied : 

“The only thing we can do, chum, is to trust to the 
small boats. I hardly think it will come to that, though. 
If we find that spur overhead solid enough, we will mine 
the shelf with sufficient powder to crack it.” 

“And if it is liable to fall?” 

“Then we’ll have to try to cut a channel with axes. 
There is still another danger to be feared.” 

“What?” 

“Didn’t you ever read of icebergs toppling over ?” 

“From the warm water undermining the base?” 

“Yes. As the berg drifts into warm currents the sub- 
merged portion is eaten or melted away until at last the 
whole thing turns turtle, in obedience to the laws of 
gravitation.” 

“I hope this one doesn’t act in that unpleasant manner 
until we leave it,” replied Chester, glancing doubtfully at 
the massive bulk of ice above him. 

“There is no telling,” remarked Tom, sagely. “That is 
why I want to get away without delay.” 

While speaking, he started to leave the edge of the 


Tom Makes a Discovery. 103 

shelf. As he turned, that part of the ice upon which he 
had been standing suddenly broke off and disappeared 
with a crash down the side of the berg. 

With an exclamation of consternation, Tom attempted 
to leap away from the dangerous spot, but in doing so his 
foot slipped and he fell prostrate directly on the edge of 
the ledge. 

He was partially stunned by the fall, and would un- 
doubtedly have rolled to his death if Chester had not acted 
promptly. 

Loosening the rope around his waist, by a quick move- 
ment, Gage cast the loop in such a manner that it encircled 
Tom's shoulders ; then, bracing himself against a project- 
ing spur of ice, he speedily hauled his chum into safety. 

For a moment neither could speak from agitation ; then 
Tom scrambled to his feet and held out his hand to Ches- 
ter, saying brokenly : 

*T owe my life to you, chum. If it had not been for 
your presence of mind I would have gone over as sure as 
fate." 

^Don't mention it, old boy," replied Chester, wiping the 
perspiration from his face. “I am only trying to get 
square for the many times you performed a like service 
for me when we were at Pickle Academy. It was a 
deuced narrow escape, though. Are you going back or 
above ?" 


104 Tom Makes a Discovery. 

Tom concluded to carry out his original intention; so, 
after a brief rest, they continued the ascent, reaching the 
topmost part of the berg without further mishap a quarter 
of an hour later. 

Tom was slightly in advance when they finally neared 
the summit. Making a hasty examination of the mass of 
ice projecting over the yacht, he found to his joy that it 
was evidently very solid. 

Satisfied on that point, he clambered higher up to ob- 
tain a view of the other side. Raising himself above the 
last obstructing pinnacle of ice, he glanced over, and then, 
with a startled cry of surprise trembling upon his lips, 
turned and eagerly beckoned to Chester. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


MARY ANN FIGHTS FOR LIBERTY. 

“Chester ! Chester ! come here,” cried Tom, acting as if 
he was almost beside himself with amazement and joy. 
“Did anything ever happen more wonderful than this ?” 

His chum’s evident excitement caused Gage to hurry 
over the irregular icy surface at a speed that bade fair to 
bring an accident upon him. When he reached Tom’s 
side, however, and looked down upon the scene toward 
which that youth was pointing, Chester felt amply repaid 
for his haste. 

The sloping mass of ice led down to a tranquil sea, 
which stretched without a break to where, brought out 
clear and distinct by the morning sun, there lay a small 
island completely covered with waving palms. 

Wonderful though it was, this peculiar discovery of a 
tropical land in the antarctic regions did not rivet the at- 
tention of Tom and his companion as did the sight of a 
bark lying motionless within a hundred yards of the shore. 

Chester rubbed his eyes in bewilderment, and then ex- 
claimed : 

“J-e-rusalem ! if it ain’t the Nighthawk!” 

“That’s just what it is, glory to goodness !” replied 


io6 Mary Ann Fights for Liberty. 

Tom, in the same tone. ‘The mercies of Providence have 
at last brought us together. Don’t wait here, chum. Back 
to the yacht as fast as our legs can carry us.” 

“What are you going to do?” asked Gage, as he fol- 
lowed his companion down the slippery sides of the berg 
at^a breakneck speed. 

“Do? Why, I am going to board that craft this morn- 
ing, if I have to float over on a raft. Just to think of it. 
The Nighthawk has been within a few miles of us all 
night, and we didn’t know it.” 

“You can thank this iceberg for the discovery, old boy. 
If we hadn’t run into it we might have passed the island 
during the night, and never a bit the wiser.” 

“That’s a fact,' Chester. The collision we have been 
bemoaning has worked us good, after all.” 

“I wonder if that is the island of the wonderful onion ?” 
asked Gage, as they stopped to take a much-needed rest. 

“It seems to be.” 

“We haven’t reached the latitude mentioned by Cap- 
tain Scroggins yet, have we?” 

“Not by at least four hundred miles. That is no cri- 
terion, however. He may not have told the truth. Con- 
found the onion ! If I only succeed in rescuing Violet and 
Mary Ann from the clutches of those scoundrels. I’ll be 
satisfied.” 

“But the professor won’t.” 


Maxy Ann Fights for Liberty. 107 

“Well, he’ll have to wait; that’s all about it.” 

“What a strange thing it is, finding this island cov- 
ered with palm trees. Christmas trees would be more like 
it. I can’t understand it, can you, Tom?” 

But our hero had started off again, eager to reach the 
yacht without delay. Chester followed at his heels, and in 
due time they climbed over the bulwarks of the Explorer. 

The professor and Captain Brett met them on deck, and 
in a few hurried words Tom explained his wonderful dis- 
covery. 

“A palm-covered island on the other side of this berg ?” 
gasped the skipper, incredulously. “Great Jones! the 
thing ain’t possible!” 

“We saw it, without a doubt, not an hour ago,” replied 
Chester. 

Captain Brett glanced at the iceberg ; then slowly shook 
his head. 

“You have seen a mirage, young gentleman,” he said, 
confidently. “I’ve had queer experiences with them things 
myself, and ” 

“The island is there, captain,” interrupted Tom, em- 
phatically. “I would stake my life upon it.” 

At this juncture, Professor Pickle, who had been gazing 
at Tom in open-mouthed amazement, suddenly made a 
break for the cabin, and almost instantly reappeared, car- 
rying a small botanical case. 


lo8 Mary Ann Fights for Liberty. 

“Where are you going?” asked Tom. 

“Have a boat manned at once, please. I am going 
ashore, to search for the specimens of the genus Allium,” 
he replied, hurriedly. 

“I am afraid you’ll have to wait a while,” returned our 
hero, grimly. 

“Wait? Why?” 

“We must make certain preparations first, sir. It won’t 
do to blunder into the hands of Nicholas Flint and his 
mates without we are well armed.” 

“But I don’t want to go near the confounded bark,” per- 
sisted Professor Pickle. 

“But I do,” replied Tom, with determination. “You 
can obtain the plants at any time, professor ; but every mo- 
ment Violet remains in the power of those ruffians she is 
subjected to just so much more peril. You know how 
bitterly the trio hate me, and they would do anything to 
gratify their revenge.” 

The professor looked disappointed ; but he bowed to our 
hero’s wishes, and steps were taken at once to form an 
expedition. 

“Shall we try to free the yacht first, or use the small 
boats?” asked Captain Brett. 

“It would take too much precious time to attempt the 
former plan,” instantaneously replied Tom. “The Ex- 


Mary Ann Fights for Liberty. 109 

plorer is safe here for a while, without the berg breaks up. 
No ; we will leave her here, and row to the bark.’’ 

‘‘Are you going to take one of the rapid-fire guns?” 
asked Chester, suggestively. 

“Yes, and plenty of small arms.” 

“Don’t you think it would be a good idea to send one of 
the sailors to the top of the berg, to watch the bark while 
we are getting the boats out ?” 

“That’s a good plan, chum,” responded Tom, favoring 
his friend with an approving look. 

A man was accordingly dispatched to the summit with a 
spyglass, and instructed to immediately acquaint those on 
board the yacht if any decisive move was made by the 
enemy. 

Several of the Explorer^s seamen had previously been 
man-of-war’s-men, and they understood the system of 
“wig-wagging” as practiced in the navy. Knowing this, 
Tom selected one of them as the lookout, and gave him a 
small flag to use in communicating with the yacht. 

After he had departed, all hands were set to work 
launching the two heavy boats. There was ample water 
over the submerged ledge to enable the small craft to float 
alongside. 

When they had finally been placed overboard, one of the 
rifles was mounted, and provisions stowed aw'ay in case 
of need. 


no Mary Ann Fights for Liberty. 

“We will leave the yacht under the care of Professor 
Pickle and four men,” decided Tom. “Chester, you, 
Captain Brett, and the balance go with me.” 

Gage tossed his cap in the air in high glee. 

“Bully for you, chum,” he cried. “I was afraid you 
intended leaving me here.” 

“No; you are too valuable in a scrimmage,” replied 
Tom, with a laugh. “Jump in all of you.” 

Just as they were on the point of embarking, one of the 
sailors ran aft with the intelligence that the lookout at the 
summit was signaling the yacht. 

“Something is up,” exclaimed Tom, anxiously. “What 
does he say ?” 

All watched the distant piece of bunting, as it waved 
from side to side in the skillful g^asp of the ex-man-of- 
war’s-man, with deep interest. 

Presently the man on the Explorer's deck interpreted 
slowly : 

“He says that a boat has just left the bark containing 
two women.” 

“What?” 

“The largest one is rowing hard.” 

“Mary Ann,” murmured Chester. 

“They are making for the island. There seems to be 
great excitement on board the vessel. Another boat is 
being lowered and filled with men.” 


Mary Ann Fights for Liberty. iii 

“Great grief! Mary Ann and Violet are trying to es- 
cape shouted Tom, wild with excitement. “Come 

“They have overtaken the first boat,” interrupted the 
sailor. “A stout man with whiskers tried to grab the 
gunwale, and was struck across the head by an oar in the 
hands of the larger woman. She has hit another one. 
They are backing away. The first boat is again pulling 
for the island.” 

“Hurrah for Mary Ann !” cheered Gage. “Didn’t I tell 
you she was a dandy?” 

Tom hurriedly cut short his enthusiasm with an order 
to embark. Ten minutes later the two boats, containing 
our hero and his companions, were skirting the iceberg on 
their way to the scene of action. 


CHAPTER XV. 


IN PURSUIT OF THE FUGITIVES. 

It was not long before the boats bearing Tom and his 
companions had cleared the iceberg. The oarsmen rowed 
at their utmost speed, urged on by a promise of reward 
from our hero, and the impetus given by their powerful 
efforts soon sent both craft to a point whence an unob- 
structed view could be obtained of the island and the 
Nighthawk. 

When they swept around the last projecting spur of ice, 
Tom — who was standing erect in the stern of the leading 
cutter — saw that their coming was just in the nick of time. 

Violet and Mary Ann had evidently landed, as their 
boat could be seen tossing idle upon the waves near the 
beach. Within a few feet of it was another yawl crowded 
with men, and, just leaving the side of the bark, was still 
another similarly filled with a part of the bark’s villainous 
crew. 

Bath were being rowed at a rapid pace toward the 
island — evidently in pursuit of the fugitives. 

Tom uttered a quick exclamation of anger and fiercely 
bade the men increase their efforts. 

“We have arrived at an opportune moment,” he added, 


In Pursuit of the Fugitives. 113 

to Chester. “Those scoundrels will soon land, but they’ll 
find an unexpected foe to contend with.” 

Gage chuckle in high glee. 

“Just imagine the face old Flint will wear when he sees 
us,” he replied. “He probably don’t believe we are within 
a thousand miles of this place.” 

“I think we had better settle the matter offhand, now 
that we have met them,” said Tom, thoughtfully. “We 
have sufficient force to capture them, and we might as 
well do it.” 

“In my opinion we will never be free from trouble until 
Nicholas Flint and his mates are behind prison bars. He 


“Ah ! the men in the last boat have caught sight of us,” 
interrupted Tom. “Now for war. Row, bullies ! bend 
your backs ! Fifty dollars to the first craft reaching the 
island!” 

The stimulus of this reward caused the sailors to tug at 
the oars in frantic haste, and the two boats fairly leaped 
from wave to wave as a result. 

Tom’s quick eye had discovered a commotion in the 
yawl nearest the Nighthawk, and he knew from it that his 
little flotilla had been sighted at last. 

Several men, among whom he recognized the familiar 
figure of Cyrus Holt, had risen to their feet and were 


1 14 In Pursuit of the Fugitives. 

pointing to the newcomers with every evidence of ex- 
citement. 

A moment later the bow of the yawl was turned back in 
the direction of the bark. 

“They are going to board her again,” exclaimed Ches- 
ter, excitedly. “Can’t we head them off?” 

“Let them go,” replied Tom. “Our first duty is to res- 
cue Violet and Mary Ann. See ! the other yawl has al- 
most reached the beach.” 

It was as he said. The boat in advance was just in the 
act of touching the shore. In her Tom could discern 
Nicholas Flint, Captain Scroggins, and the ex-bully of 
Pickle Academy, Rufus Kane. 

Suddenly it became apparent that these also had noticed 
the approaching craft from the hidden yacht. 

Nicholas Flint was seen to spring to his feet and call 
the attention of his companions with frantic gesticulations 
to their new danger. In a moment all was confusion in 
the yawl. 

The men abandoned their oars and sat staring at the 
two cutters in stupid amazement. Captain Scroggins 
acted as one bereft of his wits. He remained motionless 
in the stern sheets like a wooden image. 

Not so Nicholas Flint. That wily man of many re- 
sources turned on the crew and instantly galvanized them 
into action by a torrent of invectives and commands so 


In Pursuit of the Fugitives. 115 

loud and fierce that it was even heard in the distant 
cutters. 

*‘He is trying to make them land,” said Tom, catching 
a word or two. 

“But they won’t do it,” suddenly replied Chester, “They 
want to return to the bark. Ah ! they are fighting. They 

have shoved old Flint back from the oars and Great 

Scott ! he is overboard !” 

“The scoundrels! they would murder each other,” ex- 
claimed Tom, between his set teeth. “Pull, men ! now is 
our time to capture them. Do your best, or they will 
escape us.” 

The struggle in the yawl was soon ended. By a rapid 
action Rufus Kane had rescued his endangered companion 
from the water, pulling him back into the boat just as the 
frightened sailors succeeded in turning the craft away 
from the island. 

It was plainly evident they considered themselves more 
safe behind the sheltering walls of the bark, and from his 
actions Captain Scroggins agreed with them. 

He was seen to expostulate with Nicholas Flint for a 
brief period, and then, seizing a gun from the bottom of 
the boat, he took rapid aim at the nearest cutter, and 
pulled the trigger. 

The bullet flew harmlessly over Tom’s head. Before 
the villainous skipper could fire again an answering shot 


ii6 In Pursuit of the Fugitives. 

came from Captain Brett’s boat, which was directly be- 
hind that of our hero. 

It was better aimed, the leaden bullet striking the yawl 
jttst aft of the bow oarsman; but it passed through with- 
out doing any lasting damage. 

“Shall we give ’em a volley, sir ?” the old skipper called 
out at the same time. 

“Yes, if they fire another shot,” replied Tom. “If they 
don’t, we had better save our ammunition until we attack 
the bark.” 

“How would it do for me to pull across and head ’em 
off?” asked the captain, suggestively. “We’ve got the 
rapid-fire gun, and it’ll bring the scoundrels to terms in 
no time. Meanwhile, you can land and rescue them 
females.” 

“A good idea!” instantly responded our hero. “Go 
ahead. Captain Brett, and carry out your plan. Be cau- 
tious, and rely upon us for aid before a great while.” 

“Shall I remain here or go with him?” asked Chester, 
eagerly. 

“You are anxious to see some fighting, I suppose,” re- 
plied Tom, with a smile at his chum’s meaning. “Stay 
with me, old boy ; I may need you.” 

Captain Brett changed the course of his boat, and moved 
rapidly in a direction that would bring him between Nich- 


In Pursuit of the Fugitives. 117 

olas Flint’s yawl and the bark, while Tom continued to- 
ward the island. 

“I suppose Violet and Mary Ann must have taken to the 
woods,” said Gage. 

‘T don’t blame them. They have had much to contend 
with, and it shows how desperate their situation must have 
been when they chose an uninhabited island as a refuge.” 

'T guess they didn’t like the society of Rufus Kane and 
the rest.” 

Tom smiled grimly. 

'Tf all goes well we’ll enjoy his society ourselves,” he 
replied. 

“As far as Cape Town, anyway, eh ?” 

“Yes.” 

A moment later the cutter’s prow touched the beach. 
Tom and Chester immediately leaped ashore, followed by 
several of the sailors. 

Glancing toward the bark, our hero saw that Captain 
Brett was making strenuous efforts to cut off the yawl. 
The other craft, under charge of Cyrus Holt, had already 
reached the Nighthawk, and its late crew had disappeared 
on board. 

“By George ! I believe the skipper will be too late !” ex- 
claimed Chester. 

“I wonder why he don’t use the gun?” asked Tom, 
impatiently. 


ii8 In Pursuit of the Fugitives. 

“They are working at it. Something must be wrong. 
Ah! he is firing his smaller rifle. Good shot! He hit 
one of the scoundrels sure !” 

A sharp report came to their ears from the other cutter, 
and a man in Flint’s boat was seen to totter and fall across 
the gunwale. A second later several shots rang out from 
the after deck of the bark. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


TOM FINDS THE FUGITIVES. 

cricky ! that was a close shave !” exclaimed Chester, 
dancing about in excitement. “Those fellows on the bark 
just missed Brett’s boat. I could see the bullets spatter in 
the water not two feet away.” 

“If he could only work the rapid-fire gun,” replied Tom, 
in an agony of apprehension. “Some part of the mechan- 
ism must be out of order. What a confounded shame !” 

From where they stood they could see the old skipper — 
nothing daunted by the volley just fired from the Night- 
hawk's deck — trying to load the repeating rifle mounted in 
the bow. 

He gave it up in despair at last, however, and again 
fired at the retreating yawl with his smaller rifle. 

By this time the race had narrowed down to a distance 
of thirty yards, with the Nighthawk's yawl slightly in the 
lead. It finally became evident to our hero that Brett 
would be defeated, so he accordingly fired his revolver in 
the air as a signal for him to retreat. 

“It’s no use,” he said to his companion. “If he ap- 
proaches any closer he is liable to be shot down. We 
can’t do anything without the rapid-fire gun.” 


120 


Tom Finds tlie Fugitives. 


The old skipper obeyed the signal and, abandoning the 
chase, turned his cutter toward the island. 

“We will wait for him before commencing the search 
for Violet and Mary Ann,” decided Tom. 

“By George ! I believe they are making sail on the 
bark !” cried Gage, pointing to where a couple of sailors 
could be seen mounting the rigging. 

Tom bit his lip with vexation. This latter move on the 
part of the enemy placed him in a dilemma. He did not 
care to see Nicholas Flint and his associates escape, 
neither did he desire to abandon his efforts to rescue 
Violet and her maid. 

While he was deliberating with Chester, the cutter 
dashed up and Captain Brett sprang out. 

“What on earth is the matter with the machine gun?” 
hastily asked Tom. 

“Why, the blamed thing won’t revolve,” replied the old 
skipper, disconsolately. “If it had only worked we’d cap- 
tured them scoundrels in a jiffy. I tried my best, but the 
chamber got stuck, and that settled it.” 

Tom stepped into the boat and hurriedly examined the 
rifle. His keen eyes soon discovered the cause of the 
trouble. A small bolt had worked loose, checking the 
movement of the cylinder. 

The disability was speedily remedied, and then Tom re- 
joined his companions. 


121 


Tom Finds the Fugitives. 

guess you’ll find it all right now,” he said, explain- 
ing the nature of the temporary defect. “The question 
now is, what shall we do?” 

“You’re not a-going to let ’em git away, air ye ?” asked 
the old skipper. “We can capture them in three shakes 
of a free sheet with that gun. Just you say the word, and 
I’ll guarantee to bring her around in no time.” 

The bark, which had been laying to, was now moving 
slowly from the island. The men aloft could be seen 
sheeting home the sails in desperate haste. It was evident 
that Flint, Scroggins and Company were anxious to leave 
the vicinity. 

Tom glanced longingly toward the nearest fringe of 
palms, beyond which he knew Violet and Mary Ann were 
concealed. His keenest desire was to assure them of their 
present safety, but he was also loath to permit the escape 
of those on board of the Nighthawk. 

Suddenly Chester offered a solution of the question by 
proposing that he and the captain take the cutters and 
pursue the bark, while Tom with a couple of men re- 
mained behind to find the fugitives. 

‘When we capture those scoundrels we’ll return and 
pick you up,” he added, eagerly. 

“That’s the idea !” spoke up Captain Brett, slapping his 
thigh. “And we want to set about it without further pa- 
laver, I’m thinking. What d’ye say?” 


122 Tom Finds the Fugitives. 

“Go ahead,” replied Tom, heartily. “It’s certainly the 
best scheme under the circumstances. Take all the men 
— you will possibly need them. I can look for Violet and 
Mary Ann without assistance. Make haste now before 
they get a better breeze.” 

Without further delay Chester and the old skipper em- 
barked in their respective cutters and were soon under 
way. 

Tom paused to watch them for a brief moment, then he 
walked hurriedly into the interior. He had resolved to 
strike a straight course across the island, which was but 
small, intending to call out at every few steps. 

The first dozen yards were covered without difficulty, 
then our hero encountered a dense mass of undergrowth, 
which impeded his progress to such an extent that he was 
fain to skirt it. 

This new direction led him parallel to the shore, and 
just within the first fringe of palms. 

“Violet and Mary Ann must have followed this course,” 
he murmured, “as they could never have penetrated di- 
rectly into the interior.” 

Suddenly the distant roar of the machine gun came to 
his ears, sounding like the rapid beating of a Titan’s drum. 

“Ah ! that looks like business,” Tom exclaimed aloud. 
“I must see how they are getting on.” 

While speaking he had turned toward the beach, pres- 


Tom Finds the Fugitives. 123 

ently emerging from the woods, if the dense growth of 
palms could so be called. 

Out in the open roadstead he saw the Nighthawk still 
under sail, but now standing toward the iceberg, which 
loomed white and glittering several miles distant. 

Speeding after the bark were the two cutters, their 
oarsmen pulling away with hasty strokes. Tom made out 
the old skipper standing up near the repeating rifle, and, 
as he gazed, a heavy puff of smoke came from the weapon. 

“Badly aimed,” muttered our hero, watching the water 
splash into foamy bubbles as the hail of bullets struck near 
the bark. “Brett ought to know that he can’t do anything 
while the boat is bobbing about. It is sheer waste of 
good ammunition.” 

It was apparent that the Explorer's skipper had arrived 
at the same opinion, as he suddenly ceased working at the 
rifle and devoted his energies to the tiller. 

“I am afraid it promises to be a long chase,” thought 
Tom. “If the wind will only hold light, Chester and the 
skipper will have a chance. While they are in hot pur- 
suit of the bark I’ll resume my search. Poor Violet has 
had enough trouble, and I want her and Mary Ann to 
know that friends are near.” 

Only the echo of his own voice came back to him. The 
stillness and absence of life were peculiar. Not even a 
bird could be seen, and the waving tops of the lofty palm 


124 Tom Finds the Fugitives. 

trees bore no cunning faces peeping forth from among the 
leaves as might reasonably be expected. 

“There might be a monkey hanging around,” mused 
Tom, with a short laugh. “I never saw such a place. It 
is deuced queer all the way through. An island like this, 
with tropical vegetation, hasn’t any business down in these 
latitudes, anyway.” 

He paused and shouted both Violet’s name and that of 
the Irish maid, but without results. He then continued 
the march, withal a trifle uneasy in spirit. 

The strange appearance of the island was still in his 
thoughts, and he again pondered on the matter while 
stumbling along. 

“Now, if we had run across it in the Pacific Ocean or 
anywhere near the equator, it would be all right; but to 
find an island covered with tropical palms down here in 
the Antarctic Circle almost beats my time. True, the trees 
don’t look very green, and they are evidently pinched and 
frozen by the cold, but how did they happen to grow here 
at all, that’s what I want ” 

Tom ceased speaking and suddenly halted. He had 
heard a distant rustling in the bushes on the right. What 
could it be? The noise had ceased almost instantly. 

Tom felt for his revolver, and, holding the weapon in 
readiness for instant use, he asked, in a loud tone : 

“Who is there ? Speak, or I will fire !” 


125 


Tom Finds the Fugitives. 

There was a brief silence, then the rustling commenced 
again, and presently Mary Ann’s familiar face appeared 
from behind a palm tree. 

On seeing Tom she gave a whoop of joy, and sprang to 
his side. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


THE BARK REAPPEARS. 

“Oh, blessed be th’ day! It’s Tom, dharling!” Mary 
Ann shouted, beside herself with joy. “Is it yerself or 
yer ghost? Spake, me b’y, spake, or Oi’ll go crazy.” 

“It is I, Mary Ann, you can rest assured of that, 
and glad I am to see you. But where is Violet ?” 

Tern’s voice betrayed his anxiety as he eagerly asked 
the latter question. 

Before the Irish maid could reply, another rustling 
sounded in the brush and the girlish form of Violet 
Vaughn came into view. 

She gave a glad cry on seeing our hero, and, rushing 
forward, clasped him by the hands so warmly that he 
blushed with pleasure. 

“Tom, Tom, is it indeed you ?” she exclaimed, in a voice 
choked with emotion. “I — I — can hardly believe — ^it 
seems like a dream.” 

“Wait till Oi give yez a pinch, Violet dear,” broke in 
Mary Ann, her broad, good-humored face extended with 
a prodigious grin. 

“It is not necessary,” the young lady hastily replied, re- 


The Bark Reappears. 127 

leasing Tom’s hand. “I see that I am not mistaken. 
Thank Heaven that he is here and will protect us !” 

“That I will, Violet,” answered our hero, gallantly. 
“Your troubles are now over, I hope. You have had a 
terrible siege of it.” 

He glanced at their torn and soiled garments, and ob- 
served, with a feeling of deep sympathy, the marks of 
suffering on Violet’s face. 

Mary Ann’s broad shoulders could support the burden 
of even a greater misfortune, but the delicately reared girl 
with her had keenly felt the experience beyond a doubt. 

After silently contemplating Tom for a moment, Mary 
Ann uttered another shout of joy, and, kicking the de- 
cayed tree branches and leaves from around her feet, be- 
gan a rollicking jig. 

“Whoop ! Oi fale tin years younger, Tom, Oi do that,” 
she cried. “Oi wuz niver so glad to see any wan since our 
pig shtrayed home after a wake’s absence. Jine hands 
an’ let us celebrate!” 

Tom and Violet laughed heartily at the Irishwoman’s 
exuberance of spirit. 

“I don’t know what I would have done if I had been 
alone on that dreadful ship,” said Violet, tears filling her 
eyes. “Mary Ann behaved like a heroine, and protected 
me at the risk of her own life.” 


128 The Bark Reappears. 

“She was able to hold her own even with that lawless 
mob, ril warrant.” 

“They were actually afraid of her. Why, only the night 
before last she made them run away from the cabin and 
climb the rigging,” and Violet smiled at the recollection. 

By this time Mary Ann had grown tired of her dance 
and joined the others, asking: 

“Tom, dharling, how did ye git here, Oi dunno ? Where 
is the professor an’ that broth of a b’y, Chester Gage ?” 

Our hero gave his interested audience a brief but lucid 
description of all that had transpired since the Explorer 
first sailed into Table Bay, not forgetting to enlarge on 
his feelings when he had heard of the catastrophe to the 
steamship Ganges River. 

“It has been a long chase, but the hand of Providence 
has been with us,” he added, with emotion, “and I have 
found you at last. Now, I think you owe me an explana- 
tion of events.” 

“That we do, me b’y, an’ sure we’ll tell yez,” replied 
Mary Ann. “At laste Violet will, an’ Oi’ll prompt her 
moind in places. Go an, dear, an’ tell yer swateheart phat 
a toime we’ve had wid thim divils beyant.” 

Violet related the circumstances of the fire and their 
subsequent rescue by the crew of the Nighthawk, and also 
described the events that had taken place down to the pur- 


The Bark Reappears. 129 

chasing of stores outside of Cape Town, all of which is 
known to the reader. 

Then Mary x\nn broke in with an account of their later 
experiences, which she related with many outbursts of 
temper and anathemas on Nicholas Flint and his cohorts. 

“Do yez know, Tom,” she said, “afther that spalpane 
of a captain — may liis bones be made into drumsticks — 
got th’ grub from th’ other captain, Oi thought th’ jig 
wuz up, so to spake. There we wuz, two lone females 
aboord th’ bark wid a passel av rogues, an’ the vessel 
hiddin’ south away from our friends and civilization.” 

“It was certainly trying on you,” acknowledged Tom. 

“It wuz that, but as it turrened out it wuz also tryin’ to 
some av thim felleys aboord the Nighthazvk/' and Mary 
Ann gave a reminiscent chuckle. 

“Well, we sailed an’ sailed an’ sailed till at last we 
struck this bit av an island. We were in th’ cabin all th’ 
toime, an’ had lashings of grub an’ wather, but the deuce 
av a bit o’ th’ crater, more’s the pity. Thim people let us 
alone becase they had to. Oi made thim.” 

Tom did not doubt her in the least. 

“Th’ first two or three days out that ould villain, 
Nicholas Flint, an’ th’ divil’s own b’y, Rufus Kane, kim 
nosing around, but afther a short talk wid thim they con- 
cluded to stay away.” 

\ 

“And Cyrus Holt — did he bother you ?” 


130 The Bark Reappears. 

“Wanst — he! he! he! Oi slapped him to slape wid 
wan blow av me fist, an’ he let us alone afther that. Well, 
we bided our toime, till we finally arrived here. I kept a 
close watch t’roo th’ windies, an’ whin Oi saw th’ island 
only a short distance away Oi said to Violet, sez Oi, 
‘Violet, dear, we’ll fly th’ coop an’ lave the bark at once.’ ” 

“It w'as a great risk going ashore in a place where you 
might have found wild beasts,” remarked Tom, shaking 
his head. 

“We had to take chances, me b’y. Oi wasn’t certain we 
would foind wild bastes on th’ island, an’ Oi knew we 
had ’em aboord th’ bark. That’s th’ way Oi figgered it, 
an’ we made up our moinds to skip. At last this very 
marnin’ Oi saw an opportunity whoile th’ min were at 
breakfast, an’ Oi secured a boat. We embarked an’ got 
almost ashore before they discovered our absence. They 
foileyed us, but Oi whacked some av thim over th’ bids an’ 
we escaped, an’ here we are, Tom, dharlin’. Violet !” 

“Yes.” 

“May Oi hug yer young man just wanst fur luck?” 

“I think we had better return to the beach,” hastily re- 
marked our hero, changing the subject. “The cutters 
should have made the capture by this time.” 

“Are you sure they will succeed ?” asked Violet, 
anxiously. 

“Not sure; but I think Chester and Captain Brett can 


The Bark Reappears. 131 

speak for themselves, especially as they have a very pow- 
erful gun. Come ; we will go down to the shore.” 

Tom led the way through the fringe of palms back to 
where he had landed from the cutters. On reaching the 
beach he saw to his surprise that the offing was entirely 
clear, not a sign of either the Nighthawk or the cutters 
being visible. 

'‘By George ! that is mighty queer,” he muttered, 
anxiously scanning the horizon. 

Then a second later his eyes fell upon the iceberg, and 
his face cleared. 

“Ah ! they must have gone behind it,” he said to Violet 
and Mary Ann. “I remember that the bark was heading 
in that direction when I went in search of you.” 

“I hope the bark won't escape from them and return 
here,” said Violet, apprehensively. 

Tom glanced up at the sky. It had grown slightly over- 
cast, and a banking of somber clouds to the northward 
proclaimed, even to his inexperienced mind, that heavy 
weather might be safely anticipated. 

The wind had also increased and was now blowing 
strong enough to send the bark along at a five-knot speed, 
at least. 

All this was very alarming to our hero, but he concealed 
the fact from his companions. Only Mary Ann observed 
his perturbation, and she asked, shrewdly : 


132 


The Bark Reappears. 


‘'It don’t be lookin’ very pleasant, do it, me b’y ?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing,” replied Tom, with an assumption of 
carelessness. “The weather is a little murky, but I guess 
it’ll blow over. I wish they would hurry back and take us 
to the yacht. We have a job before us, freeing her from 
the iceberg, and I want to be at it before bad weather does 
come.” 

“It wouldn’t be very comfortable to spend a night on 
this island,” said Violet, with a shiver. “If we couldn’t 
light a fire we would certainly suffer severely from the 
cold.” 

“It do be a good job we have got warm clothing on us 
now,” added Mary Ann. “That heavy cloak ye see on her 
an’ this wan Oi snatched up before we left th’ steamer, an’ 
glad Oi am of that same prisence of moind.” 

The day, which had taken on a feeling of warmth from 
the sun, now seemed cold and blustering, and Tom felt 
more and more anxious at the non-appearance of the 
cutters. 

“I wish now I had let the bark go,” he muttered to him- 
self. “If anything should happen to the cutters we would 
be in a deuce of a fix. I wonder if that sailor is up on the 
peak of the berg yet.” 

He had reference to the man sent up before they left the 
yacht, and who had signaled the deck concerning the es- 
cape of Violet and Mary Ann from the Nighthawk. 


The Bark Reappears. 133 

Taking his cap, Tom waved it back and forth over his 
head, meanwhile closely watching the summit of the ice- 
berg. 

‘That do ye be doin’ ?” asked Mary Ann, curiously. 

“I want to see if there is a man up there from the Ex- 
plorer. If I can attract his attention, they may send the 
yawl from the yacht.” 

“How are you going to ask him ?” queried Violet. 

“We will have to trust to his intelligence.” 

“If th’ professor could only look t’roo that lump of ice 
he’d soon sind a boat, Oi’m t’inkin’. He’s a smart bit av 
a man, even ” 

“There is a man up there. See ! he is answering my 
signal!” excitedly interrupted Tom. “Oh, I’d give any- 
thing if I only knew the naval system of signaling.” 

Just visible on the extreme tip of the distant berg was a 
black spot wavering back and forth. It was undoubtedly 
the sailor sent up there by Tom. He had evidently re- 
mained on the lookout for the purpose of keeping Pro- 
fessor Pickle informed of the cutters’ progress. 

His actions indicated that he had seen Tom and the 
others, but whether those on board the Explorer would 
think of dispatching another boat for them was doubtful. 

Tom realized that the professor was the last person — 
wrapped up in his scientific studies — to expect anything 


134 Bark Reappears. 

from, and for the sailors, they would hardly do much 
without authority. 

“Well, they know that we are here, anyway,” finally re- 
marked Tom, philosophically. “If the professor don't 
send a boat we won’t have long to wait for the cutters.” 

“I do belave it is snowing,” suddenly cried Mary Ann, 
holding our her broad hands. 

Our hero quickly glanced up and saw that she was 
right. A number of tiny flakes were drifting down, and 
as they watched, it became apparent that a regular storm 
was impending. 

The sky was now completely overcast. Dull leaden 
clouds at last obscured the sun, and the wind blowing fit- 
fully, brought a sense of coldness to the little group. 

“Violet, you and Mary Ann get under cover of the 
trees,” directed Tom. “I will remain here and watch for 
the boats.” 

“Not a bit av it,” promptly objected the Irishwoman. 
“If ye can stand th’ weather so can Oi. Anyway thim 
trees — ^they do be reminding me av dust-brushes — are no 
good.” 

“I will stay here, too, Tom,” said Violet. “If it grows 
much worse we’ll all look for shelter, but as it is now 


“Mither av Moses !” suddenly shouted Mary Ann, giv- 
ing a spring in the air. 


135 


The Bark Reappears. 

“What is the matter ?” hastily asked Tom. 

“Look — look beyant that lump av ice on the other edge 
of the berg. Isn’t it a ship a-poking its nose around 
the ” 

“Great grief!” ejaculated Tom, with a sinking heart. 
“It is the Nighthawk, and she is alone 1” 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


TOM OVERHEARS A CONVERSATION. 

The sudden appearance of the bark around the other 
edge of the berg, and evidently alone, came as a blow to 
Tom. 

He could not understand what had become of the cut- 
ters. It was hardly possible they had been either cap- 
tured or lost in an attack. Tom placed too much reliance 
in the skill and bravery of Chester and Captain Brett to 
anticipate that. 

The fact still remained that the Nighthawk with her 
scoundrelly crew was again approaching the island, and 
it meant the greatest peril to our hero and his companions. 

He again bemoaned the lack of judgment that had 
allowed him to send the boats away on the chase. Still, 
there was neither use nor time to cry over spilt milk. 

“We must find a hiding place somewhere on the island, 
and that speedily,” he cried. “If the bark makes land 
again, we run great risk of capture.” 

Violet paled perceptibly, but she made no reply. Mary 
Ann also seemed disturbed, and she muttered imprecations 
against the oncoming vessel under her breath. 

The situation certainly seemed serious, and our hero 


Tom Overhears a Conversation. 137 

cannot be blamed for feeling very anxious. For himself 
he did not care an iota, but it was the fact that his com- 
panions were in danger of falling into the power of 
Nicholas Flint and his rascally gang once more, that wor- 
ried him. 

He resolved to prevent such a catastrophe with his life 
if necessary. The bitter hatred and enmity borne against 
him by his former guardian and the two accomplices made 
him believe that nothing would be too villainous for them 
to do if their revenge could be secured. 

“If Chester and the skipper would only come,” he 
groaned aloud. 

“Niver moind, Tom,” replied Mary Ann, encouragingly. 
“Oi t’ink we can foind a place to hide till they do arrive.” 

“Our being placed in this position is due to my con- 
founded idiocy,” continued Tom, bitterly. “I should have 
kept the cutters here until you were found.” 

“Oi t’ink ye did jusht right,” stoutly replied the Irish 
maid. “It wuz yer juty to capture thim scamps, an’ their 
escaping now is no fault av yours.” 

“Well, be that as it may, we must get under cover at 
once. It won’t take long for the bark to run down here. 
Come on, we will try to find a hiding place somewhere in 
the interior.” 

Taking a last look at the approaching bark, Tom saw 


138 Tom Overhears a Conversation. 

with deep anxiety that she was coming down with a free 
sheet, and would soon arrive within landing distance. 

With a feeling almost akin to despair, he led the way 
through the fringe of palms straight toward the center of 
the island. This time he fortunately struck an opening in 
the underbrush, and succeeded in penetrating some dis- 
tance before being compelled to stop. 

Seeing a small clearing almost completely surrounded 
by trees and matted vines, he conducted his companions 
into the center, and then arranged the undergrowth be- 
hind them in such a manner as to conceal their passage. 

“This do look like a bower,” remarked Mary Ann, 
eying the surroundings approvingly. “If it wuz only a 
trifle graner Oi’d t’ink Oi wuz in Oirland sure.” 

“I wish it was Ireland for the time being,” remarked 
Violet, with a smile. 

“So do I,” added Tom, fervently. “Now, what I pro- 
pose to do is to leave you here while I go on a scout.” 

“You are going to leave us?” cried Violet, in alarm. 

“Only for a while. It is necessary that I should keep 
watch for the cutters. If they return, I must meet them 
on the beach.” 

Handing his revolver to Mary Ann, he added : 

“Take this and use it if those villains should stumble 
upon your hiding place. It is loaded and ready for in- 
stant use.” 


Tom Overhears a Conversation. 139 

“An’ phat will ye do? Have yez another?” 

“Oh, I’ll get along,” Tom replied evasively. 

The snow was still falling, but the density of the 
branches overhead prevented the flakes from reaching the 
little glade. It was quite cold, however, and Tom saw 
that Violet felt it severely. 

Before leaving he removed his outer fur coat and com- 
pelled her to don it, despite her protestations. 

“No, you will need the coat more than I,” he insisted. 
“While you are compelled to remain here in one place, I 
will be moving around. Now keep as still as you can and 
wait patiently for my return. 

“If anything should happen, just fire a couple of shots 
in the air,” he added, to Mary Ann. “When I come back, 
I’ll whistle three times as a signal.” 

“So Oi won’t shoot yez, eh ?” 

“Yes.” 

After a few further words of caution, Tom slipped 
from the clearing and started toward the beach at a swift 
run, taking care to keep within the shelter of the trees 
as much as possible. 

The prolonged absence of the cutters made him fear 
that some disaster had occurred, and his anxiety was not 
dispelled when he saw, on reaching the shore, that the 
offing was still clear. 

Not a sign of the boats was visible. 


140 Tom Overhears a Conversation. 

“By George! I wonder what could have happened?’' 
murmured Tom, glancing wistfully toward the distant ice- 
berg. “I hope no harm has come to Chester and the rest. 
It is very strange, though, what keeps them.” 

The bark was still coming down before the wind, and 
had almost reached the island. Withdrawing to a place 
of concealment behind a clump of trees, Tom watched the 
Nighthawk until she finally rounded to, close to the beach. 

He saw to his surprise that the anchor was not dropped. 

“Guess they don’t intend to remain long,” he murmured, 
hopefully. “The skipper is probably afraid of a gale. The 
weather certainly looks stormy.” 

After a short delay, a boat was lowered from the quar- 
ter and boarded by six or seven men, among whom Tom 
made out Nicholas Flint and Rufus Kane. As far as he 
could see, Cyrus Holt was not of the party. 

Retreating farther inland, Tom watched the craft near 
the shore; then he circled around until he found a bush 
close to the landing place. Ensconcing himself therein, he 
waited patiently for the little party to approach. 

Presently Nicholas Flint and young Kane sprang out, 
followed by a couple of sailors. 

Tom’s former guardian and the ex-bully appeared to be 
in the best of spirits. They were laughing and joking 
with evident pleasure, and seemed highly pleased at some 


recent occurrence. 


Tom Overhears a Conversation. 14 1 

‘‘Nothing better could have happened for us, eh?” said 
Nicholas Flint, with a sly chuckle. 

“You are right, chief,” replied Rufus Kane. “I confess 
that I was getting frightened when that lump of ice fell 
and helped us out. That confounded gun the first cutter 
carried would have certainly proven too much for us.” 

“It was the fiend’s own weapon. We wouldn’t have 
lasted ten minutes if they had drawn near enough to 
use it.” 

“Do you think the yacht was entirely destroyed ?” 

Tom pricked up his ears and listened intently. 

“I reckon so. The mass of ice struck the forecastle and 
almost buried it from sight,” replied Nicholas Flint. “I 
don’t think the craft will ever float again.” 

“Did you see the old professor anywhere ?” 

“Yes ; it was he that signaled the cutters.” 

“And Tom?” 

“That is what puzzles me,” answered Flint, thought- 
fully. “He wasn’t in the boats nor on the yacht.” 

“Then he must be on this island,” promptly replied 
Rufus. 

“Good! I hope so. We can round him up at the same 
time as we do the girl and that old spitfire.” 

“You mean Mary Ann?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, I’ll leave you the job of catching her,” replied 


142 Tom Overhears a Conversation. 

Kane, with a short laugh. “I want none of it. My face 
aches yet from the slap she gave me.” 

'‘I’ll put a bullet through her if she fools with me,” said 
Nicholas Flint, brutally. 

“Do you think that Cyrus is badly hurt?” asked Rufus, 
after a pause. 

The hidden listener in the bush could hardly restrain 
an exclamation of joy. 

“So one of the scoundrels has been wounded, eh?” he 
muttered. 

“It’s hard to say,” slowly replied Nicholas Flint. “The 
shot struck him in the thigh, and made a pretty severe 
wound, but he may get over it all right. To tell you the 
truth, I don’t care whether he does or not. If he croaks 
there will be one less to divide the treasure with.” 

“When we find it,” remarked Kane, significantly. 

“Oh, I guess Captain Scroggins knows where it is. He 
wouldn’t have taken all this trouble, and gone to the ex- 
pense of fitting out this expedition, if he wasn’t sure.” 

“Do you think this is the real island ?” 

“So the skipper says. He is puzzled to find it so close 
to the African coast, though. He declares he sailed as 
far south as the fiftieth parallel before running across it 
on his first cruise. We can talk over this on board. What 
we must do now is to capture that boy and his compan- 
ions, and get them on board the bark before the cutters 


Tom Overhears a Conversation. 143 

make their appearance. You take one of the sailors and 
go to the left, while I take the right. If you sight them, 
fire your revolver twice.’’ 

The speakers moved off to give some instructions to the 
crew of the yawl, leaving Tom greatly delighted at the in- 
telligence he had just gained. 

The non-appearance of the Explorer's boats was now 
explained. They had given up the chase for the purpose 
of rescuing Professor Pickle and the remainder of the 
crew from danger caused by a fall of ice on the yacht. 

“From what Flint says, they are liable to make their 
appearance at any moment,” muttered Tom, joyfully. ‘T 
hope they hurry. When they come we’ll see if we can’t 
turn the tables on Mr. Nicholas Flint and his friends.” 

A few moments later the party from the bark divided 
and set out in search of the fugitives. After waiting for 
a brief period, Tom left his hiding place and darted into 
the interior. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


THE FIGHT IN THE GLADE. 

After traveling a short distance Tom made the dis- 
agreeable discovery that he was proceeding in the wrong 
direction. Certain landmarks noticed by him on the pre- 
vious trip to the little glade were not now visible. 

“By Jove! I am sure I left the beach at the proper 
place,” he muttered, gazing at the adjacent trees in per- 
plexity. 

A brief scrutiny of the surroundings convinced Tom 
that he really had made a mistake, so he reluctantly 
started to retrace his steps. 

“Too big a hurry to join Violet and Mary Ann, I sup- 
pose. Well, the more haste the less speed applies in my 
case as well as in others. Next time I’ll be more careful.” 

While hastening back, Tom pondered over the informa- 
tion he had just gained from Flint and young Kane. The 
mention of a treasure to be found on the island came as a 
surprise, and he now realized that Nicholas Flint’s pres- 
ence in Southern seas was not altogether caused by a de- 
sire for revenge. 

True, there had been some talk of gold — or “stuff,” as 
Captain Scroggins had termed it — in the cabin of the 


The Fight in the Glade. 145 

Nighthawk when our hero and the professor overheard 
the conversation between the conspirators, but the allusion 
had been so vague that Tom paid little attention to it. 

“If that is all they are after, I wish they would find it 
and go,” our hero murmured, ruefully. “As the case 
stands now, they have the whip-hand of me, and probably 
will until Chester comes to our aid.” 

Again reaching the vicinity of the shore, Tom pro- 
ceeded with greater caution, and presently emerged near 
the bush in which he had been concealed while listening 
to the conversation between Flint and Kane. 

The yawl-boat was still drawn up on the beach, and the 
two men left in charge were crouched in the stern trying 
to shield themselves from the snow with the aid of a 
tarpaulin. 

Slipping behind the bush, Tom took his bearings anew. 
A hasty glance toward the iceberg only resulted in dis- 
appointment. The cutters were still invisible. 

Tom’s anxiety to join Violet and Mary Ann in the little 
glade was so great that he wasted but few moments at t!ie 
beach. Satisfying himself by a close scrutiny that he was 
not again mistaken, he plunged once more into the forest 
of palms. 

The distance to the clearing was barely a mile, and, as 
the greater part of the way consisted of spaces compara- 
tively free from undergrowth, it was not long before Tom 


146 


The Fight in the Glade. 


found himself approaching the place in which he had left 
Violet and her maid. 

Forgetting to give the whistle agreed upon as a signal, 
he forced his way through the outer circle of brush, and 
was just in the act of calling out, when he saw the figure 
of a youth standing in the center of the glade. 

It was Rufus Kane ! 

The overwhelming surprise of the discovery caused 
Tom to give a gasp of astonishment, and at the sound, 
Rufus wheeled swiftly and confronted him. 

“Tom Truxton!” exclaimed young Kane, his face 
paling perceptibly. 

Stepping forward, he started to draw a revolver from 
his belt, but before he could extricate the weapon our hero 
darted forward and clutched him by the throat. 

Rufus attempted to shout, but the sinewy hand at his 
neck stifled the words, and he was compelled to defend 
himself unaided. 

Throwing his arms around Tom’s waist, he bent for- 
ward in an effort to force that lad to the ground, but the 
maneuver failed ignominiously. 

“No, you don’t, you miserable scoundrel !” grated Tom, 
resisting the attempt with all the power of his sturdy 
frame. 

“Let go my throat, will you ?” Rufus managed to gasp. 
“You — you are choking m-me to d-death.” 


The Fight in the Glade. 147 

^‘Throw your revolver to the ground/’ directed Tom, 
clinging to Kane’s neck with the tenacity of a bulldog. 

The youth pretended to obey, but when our hero re- 
leased his grasp, the treacherous scoundrel suddenly 
turned and struck him full in the face with his clinched 
fist. 

The blow was so unexpected and withal forceful that 
Tom reeled backward, only saving himself from falling by 
a great effort. 

Kane was not slow in following up the advantage thus 
gained. 

Rapidly jerking the pistol from his belt, he leveled it at 
Tom and shouted in a triumphant voice : 

"‘Surrender, confound you! Throw up your hands or 
I’ll put a bullet through you !” 

The case looked desperate, and our hero was on the 
point of obeying when he thought of an old scheme. 

“Grab him, Mary Ann!” he cried, glancing behind 
Rufus Kane. 

The latter hastily turned at the sound of the name he 
had reason to dread, and at that instant Tom was again 
upon him. 

The trick was a success, but the battle was not yet won. 
Rufus struggled desperately in our hero’s grasp, and, wild 
with rage and fear, threshed out blindly with both hands. 

Notwithstanding the rain of blows, Tom grappled with 


148 Tlie Fight in the Glade. 

his antagonist, and finally succeeded in forcing him 
against an adjacent tree. 

Seeing that he was getting the worst of the combat, 
Rufus shouted lustily for help, evidently hoping to attract 
the attention of his allies. 

“This will never do,” thought our hero, trying to shift 
his grasp upon the young scoundrel, to his throat again. 
“If Flint or the sailors hear him it will be all up with me 
sure.” 

By a skillful movement of his right hand he at last 
managed to accomplish his object, and Kane’s whining 
notes died away. 

At that moment, however, Tom heard some one forcing 
their way through the underbrush, on the opposite side 
of the little clearing, and a second later the villainous head 
of Nicholas Flint appeared from behind a tree. 

He uttered a cry of surprise and exultation on seeing 
Tom, then sprang into the little clearing. 

“Hold on, Rufus,” he cried ; “don’t let him escape.” 

But as it happened, it was Tom who was doing the 
holding, Rufus being too busy gasping for breath to pay 
attention to other details. Seeing that only the most rapid 
action would save him, Tom threw his antagonist to the 
ground with a final effort, and then fled into the brush, 
closely pursued by Nicholas Flint. 


The Fight in the Glade. 149 

“Stop, confound you!” shouted the latter. “Stop or 
ril fire !” 

The threat only increased Tom’s fleeing steps. He was 
fully resolved to risk a bullet rather than surrender. He 
knew what his capture by his implacable enemies would 
mean, and he made up his mind to take any chances. 

Darting from tree to tree, he managed to keep out of 
the threatening weapon’s range, but the sounds behind 
him proved that Flint was in hot pursuit. Again that in- 
dividual shouted a command to stop, this time emphasiz- 
ing it by a random shot. 

The bullet flew wide of the mark, however, and Tom 
sped on uninjured. 

In leaving the little glade so unceremoniously he had 
not selected his avenue of departure, and the consequence 
was that he now found himself plunging along in an en- 
tirely unknown direction. 

Presently, hearing the sounds of pursuit growing faint, 
he drew up and looked about him. The palms were more 
scattered than was the case nearer the glade, and the sur- 
face of the earth seemed slightly uneven, rising in places 
to the dignity of a respectable hill. 

Hastily mounting one of the larger eminences he 
glanced ahead and caught a faint glimpse of the sea, roll- 
ing in sullen breakers upon a stretch of beach apparently 
not a quarter of a mile distant. 


150 The Fight in the Glade. 

Just as he made the discovery Tom heard a shout behind 
him. Turning quickly he saw, to his profound chagrin 
and alarm, two sailors running toward him at a rapid 
pace. 

One bore a rifle which he leveled at Tom with a harsh 
command to throw up his arms. The threatening attitude 
of the man, and the hopelessness of escaping, compelled 
obedience, and a moment later he was a helpless prisoner 
in the hands of two members of the Nighthawk's crew ! 


CHAPTER XX. 


MARY ANN TO THE RESCUE. 

When Tom left the little glade on his unfortunate trip 
to the beach, Violet and Mary Ann attempted to make 
themselves comfortable while awaiting his return. 

In was much warmer in the interior of the island than 
on the shore, the trees and matted undergrowth affording 
a shelter against the wintry blasts. 

Selecting a spot in one corner of the clearing, Mary 
Ann piled up a quantity of branches and decayed vines in 
such a manner that it formed quite a snug retreat. 

^‘Now, Violet, dear,” she said cheerfully. “J^sht crape 
insoid yer new residence and rist at aise till Tom comes 
back.” 

“I hope he won't get into any trouble or run across 
any of those dreadful men from the bark,” replied the 
young lady, settling herself comfortably upon a heap of 
dried leaves. 

“Och ! let that b’y alone for level-headedness, dear. It's 
himself as’ll tache thim a thrick or two. Do go to slape 
fur a wee bit, Violet. Yez nade it, an' Oi can watch the 
while.” 

Violet protested that she was not a bit sleepy, but the 


153 Mary Ann to the Rescue. 

grateful warmth of Tom’s fur-lined overcoat and a cer- 
tain feeling of security at last caused her eyes to close, and 
she dozed off. 

Mary Ann sat silent and alert, keeping her watchful 
eyes roving from side to side of the glade, in constant 
search for aught suspicious. 

Fifteen minutes passed by before anything occurred to 
alarm the vigilant sentinel. 

Just then as Mary Ann was growing impatient at Tom’s 
long absence, she heard a peculiar sound behind a clump 
of bushes several yards away. Again the noise came to 
her ears, and this time she recognized its meaning. 

It was a sneeze, and some one was approaching the little 
glade. 

Quick as a flash the Irishwoman bent over her com- 
panion and awakened her with a touch. Then, passing 
one hand lightly across Violet’s mouth, Mary Ann whis- 
pered, warningly : 

“Sh-h! Don’t brathe a worrud. Some wan do be 
cornin’ this way.” 

Violet gave a gasp of terror and then hurriedly arose 
to her feet, followed by Mary Ann. The latter suddenly 
thought of the revolver given her by Tom, and found to 
her dismay that she had laid it down somewhere while 
arranging the nook for Violet and herself. 

She hastily glanced around, but failed to see it. 


Mary Ann to the Rescue. 153 

The sounds of some person forcing his way through the 
tangled vines and matted undergrowth came to her ears, 
and the erstwhile brave woman was seized with a panic. 

Grasping Violet’s hand she crept softly from the clear- 
ing into the brush, and then fled blindly from the spot. 

For fully ten minutes they scrambled over scattered 
heaps of decayed vegetation, past groups of palms and 
through almost impassable clumps of bushes until at last 
Violet could go no farther from sheer exhaustion. 

“We will have to stop, Mary Ann,” she gasped. “I — I 
can’t run any more.” 

By this time the Irish maid’s unreasonable terror had 
spent itself, and she halted, an evidently much disgusted 
woman. 

“Sure an’ phat a fule Oi am,” she exclaimed, with a 
snort of contempt. “Phy did Oi run till Oi saw phat 
wuz the danger, Oi dunno? It might have been Tom all 
th’ toime.” 

“No, I am certain it was somebody else,” replied Violet, 
glancing fearfully from side to side. “Tom would have 
given the signal agreed upon.” 

“That may be. Anyway, we’re here now, an’ where we 
are Oi dunno. Is that th’ blessed ocean Oi see troo thim 
trees ?” 

While speaking she pointed to where a shimmer of 


154 Mary Ann to the Rescue. 

water could be discerned in the distance. Violet replied 
in the affirmative. 

“Thin we’ll walk slowly along skirting th’ shore till 
something turns up. It’s mesilf as’d burn tin candles 
ivery day fur a wake if we were safe aboord Tom’s yacht. 
Oi do be gettin’ weary av this game av hoide an’ sake.” 

How fervently Violet agreed with her is left to the 
reader’s imagination. Brought up as she had been under 
the tender care of a mother, and used to the comforts of 
a pleasant home, it is no wonder that Violet Vaughn suf- 
fered from the discomforts and exposure of her present 
situation. 

Only the devoted watchfulness of the faithful maid, 
Mary Ann, kept her from succumbing to the terrible 
strain. 

After a short rest the fugitives walked toward the sea, 
keeping a careful watch for signs of pursuit? Suddenly, 
as they were skirting the base of a small hill, Mary Ann’s 
keen eyes caught sight of a familiar figure running in 
their direction. 

She barely had time to recognize the newcomer as Tom, 
when that youth sprinted out of sight behind another 
eminence. 

His appearance and subsequent disappearance was so 
sudden that Mary Ann could hardly believe her sight. 
Rubbing her eyes confusedly, she gasped : 


Mary Ann to the Rescue. 155 

‘‘Wuz it his ghost, Oi dunno? Did yez see any wan, 
Violet!” 

“See who? What do you mean?” asked her compan- 
ion in alarm. 

“Phy, Tom Truxton either passed us jusht thin or 
Oi’m seeing spirits.” 

“Tom ? Where — which way did he go ?” 

“Over there beyant that hillock. Oi wuz lookin’ in that 
direction when some wan wid the face an’ the clothes av 
yer swateheart skipped by loike a shadder.” 

“It might have been he,” hurriedly replied Violet. “Let 
us follow and see.” 

But Mary Ann hung back. Her superstitious nature 
had been aroused by the peculiar disappearance, as it 
seemed to her, and she was exceedingly reluctant to ap- 
proach the spot. 

“Oi am afeered,” she muttered. “Oi am not scared at 
a man, or tin av thim fur that matter, but whin ghosts do 
walk widin plain soight av me Oi want none av thim.” 

“Nonsense, Mary Ann,” exclaimed Violet, catching her 
by the arm. “There are no such things as ghosts or 
spirits, and ” 

“Phat! No such t’ings as ghosts!” almost shouted 
the Irish maid, incredulously. “Phy, Oi seed two av 
thim wid me own oies a year ago come Michaelmas. No 
such t’ings as ghosts, fursooth !” 


156 Mary Ann to the Rescue. 

“Well, anyway, there are none on this island,” persisted 
Violet. “Come ” 

“Sh-h!” suddenly interrupted her companion, grasping 
her violently by the shoulder and forcing her behind a 
bush. “Sh-h! not a worrud if ye vally yer loife. There 
be two men a-comin’ out av thim woods over there.” 

Violet looked in the direction indicated, and saw a 
couple of rough-appearing sailors creep from the brush as 
if following some one. 

The man in advance carried a gun, which he handled 
as if preparing to use it at any moment. While Violet and 
Mary Ann were gazing in terror, Tom Truxton came into 
view on the summit of a little hill not fifty yards away. 

Both watchers tried to shout a warning, but their voices 
were lost in a stentorian command given by the sailors. 

A few moments later Violet and her companion saw 
Tom made a prisoner as recorded in the preceding chap- 
ter. While the seamen were binding their captive, Mary 
Ann hastily snatched a thick stick of wood from the 
ground, and advanced toward them with the stealthy 
tread of a cat. 

Approaching within a few feet of the group unseen, she 
lifted her weapon and rushed forward with an angry cry 
of defiance ! 


CHAPTER XXL 


EXPLANATIONS — ^THE PRISONERS. 

When Tom found himself a prisoner in the hands of the 
two sailors he almost gave up in despair. The strange 
disappearance of Violet and Mary Ann and the discovery 
of Rufus Kane in the little clearing had filled him with 
apprehension, but now to also become a captive of the 
enemy was too much. 

“I suppose your master will be greatly pleased at your 
success?” he said, bitterly, to one of the sailors who was 
tying a belt around his legs. 

‘T kinder reckon so,” replied the fellow, with a satis- 
fied grin. “We’ll git a handsome reward for this day’s 
work, eh. Bill?” 

The sailor addressed nodded his head and coolly pro- 
ceeded with his task of securing Tom’s arms. 

“I can make it worth your while if you will leave the 
bark and join us,” continued Tom, feeling his way. ‘T 
will give each of you more money than you have ever 
seen before.” 

“Where’ll you git it? Your yacht is gone up, and I 
reckon about the only way you can return to the States is 


158 Explanations — The Prisoners. 

in the Nighthawk. No, that kind er talk won’t wash. 
What you have got on yer we’ll take, anyway, and ” 

“Whoop !” 

Like a peal of thunder from a clear sky came the in- 
terruption, and before the dumfounded seamen could even 
turn around, one of them received such a terrific whack 
from Mary Ann’s club that he tumbled to the ground in 
a heap. 

“Yez will captoor that b’y, eh?” yelled the Amazon, 
aiming a blow at the other. “Ooh ! let me at ye, ye spal- 
pane an’ thafe av th’ worruld! Take that, an’ that, an’ 
that!” 

Each word was accented by a shrewd blow, and, after 
trying in vain to grasp his gun, the fellow turned and fled 
down the side of the hill. He was not destined to escape, 
however. 

The little scrimmage had only given Mary Ann a taste 
for more, and she bounded after the fleeing man with 
leaps that would have put a kangaroo to shame. 

“Stop, or Oi’ll brain yez 1 Kim back now, an’ surrender 
yezself. Oi won’t be tellin’ yez no more. Take that, will 
yez !” 

Catching up with the sailor, she gave him one rap across 
the shoulder, and to such good effect that he sprawled 
headlong upon the ground. 

Flushed with victory, Mary Ann quickly bound him 


Explanations — The Prisoners, 159 

with his own belt, and then, turning her attention to the 
other seaman, placed him in the same situation. She then 
released Tom from his lashings, and after all danger was 
past burst into tears, woman-like. 

Tom’s joy at thus finding himself unexpectedly released 
was great. He shook hands with Violet until that young 
lady winced with pain, and then he danced around Mary 
Ann in a manner befitting a wild Indian. 

“Great grief ! but I was never so tickled in all my life !” 
he shouted, totally regardless of the dangers still lurking 
on the island. “Mary Ann, you are a jewel. How did 
you happen to leave the glade? How did you get here? 
Were you not afraid to tackle these men?” 

And a score of other questions did he ask, until the 
Irishwoman beamed through her tears and joined in his 
enthusiasm. 

“An’ faith it wuz lucky fur ye, me b’y, that Violet and 
Oi happened to be strolling this way fur our health. As 
fur th’ little racket Oi do be havin’ jusht now, it wuz 
nothin’ at all, at all. Oi remimber th’ toime whin me an’ 
me cousin, Patrick Googan — rist his soul — wint till a 
shindy at ” 

Anticipating a long-winded description of some Hiber- 
nian fracas in the remote past, Tom interrupted her by 
proposed that they leave such an exposed position for the 
time being. 


i6o Explanations — The Prisoners. 

“Nicholas Flint and young Kane are still on the island, 
and they are liable to discover us at any moment,” he 
added. “Not that I care now, being that we can arm our- 
selves with the weapons belonging to these sailors, but it 
is just as well to find a place where they can’t surprise us.” 

“Phat will yez do with thim rogues, Oi dunno?” asked 
Mary Ann, indicating the two prisoners with a contemptu- 
ous jerk of her thumb. 

“Take them with us; they may prove useful,” briefly 
replied Tom. 

Both seamen had recovered from the effects of Mary 
Ann’s blows, and they lay stretched out upon their backs 
gazing at her with ludicrous expressions of awe and be- 
wilderment. 

That an ordinary woman could prove to be such a 
cyclone was beyond their comprehension. They did not 
know Mary Ann. 

Relieving them of their revolvers and the repeating 
rifle, Tom loosened their foot-lashings and sternly bade 
them stand erect. 

“Now, if you do as I tell you and make no attempt at 
escape, we won’t harm you,” he said, adding with a grim 
smile : “If you try any funny business. I’ll turn you over 
to the tender mercies of Mary Ann here.” 

“An’ Oi’ll soon tache thim a lesson they’ll niver forgit 
till their dying day,” promptly chimed in the Irishwoman. 


Explanations — The Prisoners. i6i 

Selecting a secure hiding place between several bushes, 
Tom transferred his little party, and then asked Violet 
and Mary Ann to explain their departure from the glade. 

This was done in a few choice and characteristic sen- 
tences by the latter, who seemed to be very much ashamed 
while telling of her hasty flight on hearing the noise in 
the brush. 

“It has turned out all right, anyway,” replied Tom, 
when she had finished. “We are again united, and in ad- 
dition hold two of the enemy's force as our prisoners.” 

Tom then told his companions of his experiences with 
Kane and Nicholas Flint, also the conversation he had 
overheard while hidden in the bush near the landing. 

“So th' pore yacht is smashed, eh?” sorrowfully asked 
Mary Ann. 

“I am afraid so,” replied Tom in the same tone. “Ches- 
ter would never have given up the chase after the bark if 
something serious had not occurred. We will learn all 
the details when the cutters return.” 

“They may be nearing the island now,” remarked 
Violet. 

“That is true. It is certainly possible they are on their 
way here at this very moment. It won’t do to stay at this 
end of the island — they would never find us.” 

“If yez could only dim wan av thim dust-brushes,” sug- 


1 62 Explanations — The Prisoners. 

gested Mary Ann, indicating a group of lofty palms, “ye 
could git a glimpse av th’ coast an’ p’raps th’ iceberg.” 

“It would take a long-tailed monkey to shin up one of 
those trees,” answered Tom, shaking his head. “No ; we’ll 
have to skirt the shore, or else trudge back through the 
center of the island.” 

“Let it be th’ shore be all manes. Oi’m sick an’ tired 
of trampin’ over thim hapes of leaves an’ underbrush.” 

“Well, before we go I want to have an understanding 
with these gentlemen here,” said Tom, meaning the pris- 
oners. “Mary Ann, you and Violet please keep watch 
while I talk to them for a moment. Pay particular atten- 
tion to that clearing beyond those two trees, as I think 
Flint and Kane will approach from that direction, if they 
come at all.” 

“Shall Oi shoot if Oi espy thim?” asked the Irish- 
woman, gingerly handling a pistol Tom had given her, 
which he had taken from one of the captured sailors. 

“How would you aim?” queried our hero, winking at 
Violet. 

Mary Ann planted her feet firmly upon the ground, 
closed her eyes, and then pointed the weapon in a very 
vague and wavering manner toward a nearby hill. 

“I think it would be just as well for you to notify me 


Explanations — The Prisoners. 163 

instead of shooting, ’’ dryly remarked Tom, turning his 
attention to the prisoners. 

“Now, see here, my men,” he began, sternly. “You are 
in my power and there is no possible chance of your es- 
caping. It is well for you to understand that once for all. 
When I was your prisoner I told you that I would make 
it worth your while to side with me in this affair. I now 
repeat the offer. My party is not so badly off as you sup- 
pose. True, our vessel is wrecked, but probably not so 
seriously as we think. My companions in the cutters are 
well armed, as your mates had reason to know to-day, 
and they are liable to be here at any moment. If you will 
join us, ril see that you are each paid liberally when we 
return to civilization. What do you say?” 

“What does yer want us to do?” sullenly asked one of 
the sailors. 

“Nothing, at present, except to answer a few ques- 
tions ; but later, if it comes to a fight with the crew of the 
Nighthawk, I want you to help us.” 

“Will yer also give us a share in the treasure?” ques- 
tioned the other, greedily. 

“What treasure?” asked Tom, suspiciously. 

“Why, de gold and stuff the skipper of the bark seed 
on this island when he sailed down here before.” 

“I don’t know of any such treasure, but if we find it 


164 Explanations — The Prisoners. 


you will certainly have your share with the rest, and the 
money I promised you as well.” 

“Then I agree to serve under youse, and so will Bill 
here. I’m tired of that old bark and that thin chap’s boss- 
ing about, anyway. He’s no good. Now, what do you 
want me to tell yer ?” 


CHAPTER XXIL 


A SHOT FROM THE BUSH. 

Tom could hardly conceal his satisfaction at thus hav- 
ing won over two of the enemy’s force to his side. They 
were not very pleasant companions, but their presence 
would tell in a battle with Nicholas Flint and his mates, 
and furthermore the acquisition would lessen the strength 
of the opposing party by just two men. 

Tom fully believed from the tone in which the pris- 
oners had replied that they were sincere, but he did not 
intend to take any unnecessary chances by releasing them 
before being rejoined by Chester and the rest. 

'T want you to tell me all you know about the plans of 
the thin man, as you call him, and Captain Scroggins,” 
he said, “and also how many men have been wounded.” 

“Til answer yer last question fust,” replied the sailor. 
“Both Cyrus Holt and the skipper was wounded to-day 
by the bullets from that blamed pepper box one of them 
cutters carried. The captain only got his arm hurted, but 
the other chap was hit purty bad. He’s in the cabin now, 
laid out and groaning ter beat the deuce.” 

“Captain Scroggins was injured also?” 

“Yes. He’s able to be around, but he didn’t come 


i66 


A Shot from the Bush. 


ashore to-day. Now fur yer other question about their 
plans. All I know is, that the old skipper and the thin 
man, together with Holt and a blamed kid named Kane, 
came down here to find a treasure Captain Scroggins said 
wuz on this here island. The thin chap and his two mates 
also wanted to captoor you and yer companions for some 
reason or other. When the girl and that old Irishwoman 
'scaped this morning, I thought the thin fellow would 
have a fit. He says he would give any money to catch 
them again, as he intended to strike you through them." 

'‘He did, eh?" muttered Tom, hotly. "Well, we will 
fool Mr. Nicholas Flint. If he " 

Bang! 

"Ooh! murder! have Oi kilt him? Is th' spalpane 
ded?" 

"What's the matter?” hurriedly asked Tom, running to 
where Mary Ann was dancing about, holding a still smok- 
ing pistol at arm’s length. Interrupted by the sharp re- 
port of a revolver, he had turned just in time to see the 
Irishwoman acting in the manner just described. 

Violet — white as a sheet and trembling violently — was 
leaning against a tree, evidently almost scared out of her 
wits. 

"What is the matter?” again demanded our hero. 
"What have you done?" 

"Over there beyant th’ clump av — av bushes, Oi saw 


A SHot from the Bush. 


167 


th’ monkey face av that rogue, Nicholas Flint, a-peepin’ 
at me, an' Oi fired th’ gun before Oi t’ought. Tom, 
dharlin’, go an’ see if Oi kilt him.” 

*What! You saw Flint?” 

“Yis, an’ that baboon av a kid, Rufus Kane. Oi bet me 
hands are stained wid blood this blessed minute. Wirra ! 
wirra !” 

'T don’t think you have hurt anybody, Mary Ann,” said 
Tom, confidently, ''so there isn’t any use in carrying on 
like that. Are you sure you saw Flint and Kane ?” 

"Yis, it wuz thim, right enough. Th’ thavin’ scoun- 
drels, Oi hope Oi did scrape thim a bit.” 

"We will soon see,” replied Tom. 

Picking up the gun he cocked it and advanced cau- 
tiously toward the bushes mentioned by the Irishwoman. 
He had hardly stepped from the shelter of the trees when 
a puff of white smoke came from behind a pile of decayed 
logs, and a bullet whizzed past his head. 

Tom instantly leveled his rifle and fired two shots in 
close succession at the spot, then intrepidly rushed for- 
ward, recocking the rifle as he ran. 

"Come back, Tom! You will be killed!” screamed 
Violet, terror-stricken. 

Mary Ann dropped the pistol and grasping a thick club, 
sallied forth after our hero, her broad face expressing de- 
light at the prospect of a scrimmage. 


i68 


A SHot from the Bush. 


On reaching the place from whence the shot had been 
fired, Tom saw a cap lying upon the ground, but no other 
sign of either Flint or Rufus was visible. 

‘‘They have skipped,” he said to Mary Ann, as she 
joined him. “Well, they know now that we are pre- 
pared, and I think they will go aboard again for rein- 
forcements. We don’t want to stay here a moment 
longer. Get Violet and the prisoners and we will hurry 
to the other end of the island. Perhaps the cutters have 
already arrived.” 

“Thin Oi didn’t kill any wan, eh?” asked Mary Ann, 
rather disappointedly. 

“Not a soul. Make haste now; I will wait here and 
keep a lookout for those scoundrels.” 

The Irishwoman soon returned with Violet, driving the 
prisoners before her, and the little party immediately set 
out for the nearby beach. The sailors asked to be re- 
leased, but Tom grimly refused. 

“I don’t say you will go back on your word, men, but 
in view of my present small force I must be careful. As 
soon as we join our friends I’ll untie your arms.” 

It took very few moments to reach the shore. Glan- 
cing down the level stretch of sand, Tom suddenly ob- 
served two figures creep from the bushes and make off at 
a rapid pace toward where the shore line curved from 
sight. 


A Sliot from tlie Bush. 169 

The distance was not too far for our hero to recognize 
the twain. It was Nicholas Flint and Rufus Kane. 

Pointing them out to his companions, Tom said : 

“There go the scoundrels now. They are bound for the 
yawl, ril w’ager.” 

“Yes, and I think they’re going aboard the bark fur 
more men,” spoke up one of the prisoners. “They know 
now that we have been took, an’ I guess they haven’t th’ 
nerve to fight alone. That kid is a blamed coward.” 

“That’s wot he is, an’ his master isn’t much bettr** ” 
growled the other sailor. 

“We will follow at a respectable distance,” concluded 
Tom, leading the way. 

After traveling a quarter of an hour the party reached 
the turn in the coast and saw directly in front of them the 
Nighthawk standing back and forth under easy sail. 

The yawl was just leaving the beach and Tom dis- 
cerned Flint and Kane in the stern sheets. The sailors 
manning the boat were tugging at the oars as if in des- 
perate haste. 

Tom gave a shout of joy when he saw the cause of their 
commotion. Coming around the edge of the iceberg were 
the two cutters crowded with men ! 

“Blessed be th’ saints!” ejaculated Mary Ann, fer- 
vently. “Now my dearie’ll be safe wanst more. How 


A Shot from the Bush. 


170 

be-you-tiful thim boats do look a skimmin’ th’ wather to 
our rescue.” 

“The circumstances do certainly add to their appear- 
ance,” replied Tom, laughing with the light-heartedness 
he had not felt for many hours. 

Violet did not speak, but the expression of joy and re- 
lief upon her sweet face was more eloquent than words 
could be. 

The cutters approached the island at a rapid pace, and 
it was not long before the little party on the beach could 
distinguish the faces of those in the boats. 

“I don’t believe they have seen us yet,” remarked Tom. 
“We are standing here before a dark background and 
they will hardly sight us until considerably nearer the 
land. I can make out Chester, and the professor, and the 
old skipper in the first cutter.” 

“Phat is in thim boxes an’ casks in the other boat, 
Tom?” 

“It must be the stores they have saved from the yacht,” 
replied our hero. “I am glad they have managed to se- 
cure something, but it’s a bad sign. It looks as if the 
poor old Explorer is done for.” 

“I guess you will have to capture the Nighthawk to re- 
turn home in,” said Violet, brightly. 

“We’ll do it if we get half a chance, I can assure you 


of that.” 


A Shot from the Bush. 


171 


“I have been thinking over a plan by which youse 
might captoor her/’ suddenly spoke up one of the 
prisoners. 

“What is it?” 

“Why, if you let me an’ my mate here escape we’ll pre- 
tend to steal one o’ yer boats an’ jine the barky again. 
Then to-night, when they ain’t watchin’, we’ll let youse 
fellers come aboard and take her.” 

“A good idea, but we’ll wait a while before trying it,” 
cautiously replied Tom. 

The man looked disappointed, but did not press his 
plan. He no doubt realized that Tom still regarded them 
with suspicion, natural under the circumstances. 

By this time the yawl, carrying Flint and young Kane, 
had reached the Nighthawk, and the watchers on the 
beach saw the light craft quickly hoisted at the davits. 

A few moments later several men ran aloft and 
loosened the fore and main topsails. These were hastily 
sheeted home, and before very long the bark was standing 
to sea under a press of canvas. 

As she got under way, Tom and his companions moved 
down to the edge of the water, and were greeted with a 
hearty cheer by those in the approaching cutters. 


CHAPTER XXIIL 


THE PROFESSOR DISAPPEARS. 

When the boats were finally beached, Chester was so 
impatient to land that he sprang into the water up to his 
knees and waded ashore. 

He was met by Tom, and the two friends shook hands 
as heartily as if the separation had lasted a year instead of 
a few hours. 

“By George ! I am glad to see that you are safe !” cried 
Gage, his boyish face wreathed with smiles. “When the 
bark gave us the slip and sailed back in this direction I 
was afraid those scoundrels would capture you sure.” 

“Well, you see that I am still free,” laughed Tom, “and 
so is Violet and Mary Ann.” 

Leaving him, Chester greeted that young lady and the 
Irishwoman, scarcely less enthusiastically than our hero. 
Mary Ann was so overcome with blithesome glee that she 
threw her arms around the embarrassed youth and gave 
him a resounding smack above his right eyebrow, at the 
same time shouting : 

“Glory be to th’ powers above, an’ is it yersilf Oi’m 
lasting me two eyes upon, Chister Gage. My ! but you do 
be lookin’ purty. Come to me arrums ag’in.” 


The Professor Disappears. 173 

But Chester had retreated to a safe distance, where he 
stood ready to run away at the first sign of advance on 
Mary Ann’s part. 

The professor waited until the cutter in which he was 
seated had been securely moored, then he disembarked 
and after greeting Tom and the rest in an absent-minded 
manner, he hurried to the nearest bush. 

Taking a magnifying lense from his pocket the eccen- 
tric scientist commenced a minute examination of the 
leaves, paying no further attention to the party. 

“An’ phat is th’ matter wid th’ ould felley?” asked 
Mary Ann, watching Professor Pickle with wide-open 
eyes. “Is he gone in his upper shtory, Oi dunno ?” 

“You mustn’t mind him,” smiled Tom. “He is look- 
ing for his onions.” 

“Onions? Well, he is a sinsible man, thin, fur Oi 
wouldn’t mind running across an onion or a pratie mesilf, 
Oi do be that hungry.” 

“By Jove! I have totally forgotten all about eating,” 
replied Tom, regretfully. “You must be literally starv- 
ing, Violet.” 

“Now that we are all united I must confess that I could 
partake of a little food,” acknowledged the young lady, 
demurely. 

At that moment Captain Brett — who had been occupied 
in securing the cutters — came up and greeted Tom in his 


174 The Professor Disappears. 

bluff, hearty way. He also made his best bow to Violet 
and Mary Ann, which the latter recognized by a profound 
courtesy, saying to Chester, in an audible whisper : 

“Phat a foine man he is, an’ handsome as a picter. 
Is he married, d’ye know?” 

Before the mischief loving youth had time to reply, 
Tom proposed that immediate steps be taken to establish 
a camp. 

“We must select a place sheltered from the wind, as the 
night promises to be cold,” he added, “and we must make 
haste if we expect to have everything snug before dark.” 

“You are right there, lad,” replied the old skipper, 
squinting at the overcast sky. “Down in these latitoods 
they don’t have any twilight, an’ night will fall before we 
know it. While you and Chester finds a place. I’ll have 
the men land the stores and secure the cutters.” 

“By the way, I want to ask one question before we be- 
gin,” hastily replied Tom. “Was any one hurt by the fall 
of ice?” 

The excitement of meeting with his companions had 
driven all thoughts of the disaster to the Explorer from 
his mind until now. 

“No; all hands escaped, barring a couple of slight 
bruises one of the fellers received while scr^bling out 
of the way,” replied Captain Brett. “D’ye see, at that 
moment when the lump fell everybody was aft trying to 


The Professor Disappears. 175 

repair the yawl, as I’m told, and none of them got hurted 
much. It was a narrow escape, though.” 

‘‘And the yacht ? Is she totally wrecked ?” 

“I’m afeerd so. The whole bow is smashed, and the 
foremast carried away. Howsomever, we didn’t have 
time to make a keerful examination.” 

“We will row over there in the morning and see,” re- 
plied Tom. “If we can’t repair her we’ll see what can 
be done with the timbers.” 

At Chester’s solicitation, our hero gave a brief descrip- 
tion of the events that had occurred on the island since 
the cutters’ departure in chase of the bark, stating that he 
would go more into detail after a while. 

Before leaving in search of a camping place, Tom took 
a last look at the bark. She was standing toward the 
north under all sail, and had almost disappeared. 

“It looks as if Nicholas Flint and his crew had quite 
enough of us,” he said to Chester. “For my part, I hope 
they have.” 

“Don’t be too sure of it,” replied his companion, sagely. 
“Their skipping out in this manner may only mean a ruse 
to lull our watchfulness. I wouldn’t be surprised to see 
them back to-night.” 

“Maybe so,” said Tom, thoughtfully. “We must pre- 
pare for a visit, anyway. I think I will organize a regular 


176 The Professor Disappears. 

patrol force to walk the beach on all sides of the island 
day and night.” 

“That would be a splendid scheme,” applauded Ches- 
ter, as they walked up the beach. “Just start the thing and 
put me in charge of it, and I’ll guarantee old Flint and his 
mates will have a warm time getting ashore.” 

After a brief search, a spot sheltered on two sides by 
hummocks of sand, and in the rear by a matted growth 
of bush and vines, was selected as the site of the camp. 

A fire was immediately started in front, and Mary Ann 
set to work preparing the supper. Ample provisions had 
been brought from the yacht to last for several weeks, and 
twice as much remained on board, so there was but little 
danger of starvation. 

Tom released the two prisoners, and after cautioning 
them as to their conduct, set both to work building a 
bower, or retreat, for Violet and the Irish maid. 

Captain Brett and his sailors hauled the cutters high 
and dry on the beach, and then carried the various boxes 
and kegs to the vicinity of the camp. 

The weather had cleared off slightly, and the snow had 
ceased falling, but there was a peculiar touch to the wind 
that proclaimed an impending gale to the old skipper’s ex- 
perienced mind. He seized an early opportunity to so in- 
form Tom, adding : 

“It can’t do much damage here, but I’m afeerd it’ll blow 


The Professor Disappears. 177 

that there iceberg out of our reach, and then we’ll lose the 
yacht and the rest of the stores/^ 

‘‘That would be a calamity, indeed,” replied the youth, 
gravely. “I don't see how we can help ourselves, though, 
without we take the boats and secure the stuff now.” 

“We won’t have time before dark, and it’ll be mighty 
risky rowing around in the open waters after nightfall if 
the wind increases.” 

“Don’t it seem to you that the berg is much nearer than 
it was this morning ?” 

“Yes, come to think of it, I believe it is. I reckon the 
blamed thing is drifting this way. Howsomever, I guess 
we’d better take chances and not make a trip to-night.” 

To this Tom finally agreed, and shortly after, supper 
was announced by Mary Ann. When the party assembled 
around the improvised kitchen it was discovered that Pro- 
fessor Pickle was missing. 

Tom sent several sailors in search of the old gentleman, 
but they returned presently with the announcement that 
he could not be found anywhere in the vicinity. Now 
thoroughly alarmed, Tom hastily divided his forces, and 
a few moments later the island was being thoroughly 
scoured. 

An hour after dark the different parties straggled back 
into camp all telling the same story. Professor Pickle 
had mysteriously disappeared ! 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


THE HOLE IN THE GROUND. 

The Strange disappearance of the professor caused the 
utmost anxiety in Camp Violet, as Tom had named their 
present location. During the excitement incident to the 
establishment of the camp he had been entirely forgotten. 

All knew his eccentricities, and but little attention was 
paid to his actions for the time being. Chester — who had 
been the last to see Professor Pickle — declared that he 
was at that time down upon his knees, digging at the 
roots of a shrub with an old knife. 

‘‘After that, he must have stroljed of¥ into the woods,’" 
added Gage. 

“Phy didn’t the ould fool bring a nurse, Oi dunno?” 
demanded Mary Ann, in disrespectful tones. “Phat busi- 
ness has he goin’ off an’ gittin’ lost, jusht whin Oi have a 
elegant stew all ready ?” 

When Tom returned to camp with his party, and found 
that nothing had been seen of the missing scientist, his 
anxiety increased. 

“We must not rest until he has been found,” he said, 
with determination. “He could not have strayed far, I 
am sure. Half of you can remain here and eat supper, 


The Hole in the Ground, 179 

while the rest continue the search. Chester, you come 
with me, and bring one of the lanterns.” 

After starting several small parties along the beach in 
both directions, Tom and his chum struck inland, for the 
center of the island. 

“Confound it!” exclaimed the former. “I’ll deputize a 
couple of men to watch him hereafter.” 

“The old gentleman is clean crazy over that onion, and 
actually don’t know what he is doing,” replied Gage. 

“Well, I hope he finds a specimen and becomes con- 
tended. Whew! This kind of walking is no easy task 
after dark. Where on earth do you suppose the profes- 
sor could have gone ?” 

“He may have fallen into the sea,” suggested Gage, 
gravely. 

“Great grief! I hope not,” exclaimed Tom, stopping 
short, and looking at his companion. “I wouldn’t have 
that happen for — what was that ?” 

A faint cry, as if from a man in deadly peril, came to 
their ears. The sound died away in a long, drawn-out 
moan, and was then repeated. 

Tom and Chester stood as if transfixed for a second; 
then they began to beat about the bush in a frantic effort 
to find the place whence the appeal had come. 

“It is the professor, and he is in great danger,” panted 


i8o 


The Hole in the Ground. 


Tom, forcing the brush in front of him to one side. Paus- 
ing, he shouted at the top of his voice : 

“Professor Pickle, where are you?” 

Again the cry came, this time seemingly not a dozen 
yards in advance. Tom hastened forward, followed by 
Chester, but had hardly taken ten steps when he recoiled 
with an exclamation of surprise and excitement. 

“What is the matter ?” hurriedly asked Gage. 

Without replying, Tom snatched the lighted lantern 
from his hand and held it up so the rays would illumine a 
dark spot in front of them. 

“Jumping ginger!” shouted Chester, aghast. “That 
was a narrow escape for you.” 

Directly at their feet was a circular hole in the ground, 
apparently about six feet in diameter. Just below the 
level could be seen the sparkle of water, and as the twain 
looked, it seemed to be agitated, as if by some submarine 
monster. 

Throwing himself to the ground, Tom leaned over the 
edge of the opening, and held the lantern well out. As 
he had suspected, he saw the familiar face of Professor 
Pickle directly beneath him. 

The scientist was grasping a trailing vine with one 
hand, his body being partially submerged in the water, 
almost filling the cavity. On seeing Tom, he uttered a 


The Hole in the Ground. i8i 

feeble cry for help, and threshed out with his long legs in 
a futile effort to gain a foothold on the side. 

“Courage, professor !” exclaimed our hero. “Courage ! 
We’ll have you out of there in a jiffy.” 

Springing to his feet, Tom hastily cut a vine strong 
and supple enough to bear a heavy weight. Fastening 
one end around a nearby tree, he told Chester to hold the 
lantern over the opening. 

Then lowering the other end down to the professor, 
Tom bade him grasp it tightly, adding : 

“Hold on with all your power, and we’ll haul you up in 
no time, sir.” 

“I can’t let go of this vine,” came back, in feeble tones. 
“If I do I’ll sink beneath the surface.” 

“Well, retain your grasp with one hand, and catch hold 
with the other.” 

“I can’t.” 

“For Heaven’s sake ! why not ?” asked Tom, im- 
patiently. 

“I’m using both arms now. I am holding a specimen of 
the genus Allium with my right hand,” replied the pro- 
fessor, plaintively. 

Tom glanced at Chester with such an expression of dis- 
gust that the latter exploded with laughter. 

“Well, did you ever hear the beat of that in your life?” 
ejaculated the former. “There he is down in that hole, in 


The Hole in the Ground. 


182 

imminent danger of losing his life, and he refuses to be 
rescued on account of a confounded old onion/’ 

“He is certainly a peculiar specimen himself,” laughed 
Gage. 

“We can’t leave him here, that’s certain. I’ll try him 
again.” 

Bending over the edge of the opening, Tom called out : 

“Professor, if you want to save your life you will have 
to do as I ask you. Drop that onion and grasp this vine, 
so we can pull you up. The longer you remain in that 
icy water the more exhausted you will become.” 

“Caffi; you reach down and take the specimen?” asked 
Pickle, pleadingly. “It is the only one I could find after 
a long search, and I wouldn’t give it up for a fortune.” 

With an imprecation on botany in general, Tom told 
Chester to hold his legs while he secured the plant. After 
several attempts, he succeeded, and a few moments later 
the scientist was also drawn up to a place of safety. 

“Now, for Heaven’s sake, come to the camp and dry 
yourself,” said our hero, passing the specimen over to its 
bedraggled owner. 

“How on earth did you fall down that hole?” asked 
Chester, leading the way with the lantern. , 

“I was walking through this most peculiar forest of 
Antarctic palms searching for my precious specimen 
shortly before dark, and in stepping across a log, tumbled 


The Hole in the Ground. 183 

right into that horrible cavity,” explained the professor, 
carefully stowing his prize in his coat pocket. 

“After I emerged from the water, I attempted to grasp 
the side, and my hand tore something away . from the 
wall,” he continued. “It was light enough for me to see 
that I had at last found the object of my voyage. It was 
a splendid specimen of the genus ” 

“Yes, yes,” interrupted Tom, impatiently. “But do you 
know you came very near losing your life, and that you 
have also caused all of us a lot of trouble and anxiety? 
Now that you have found the plant, for goodness’ sake, 
don’t go wandering around scaring us to death.” ^ 

“All right, Thomas,” meekly replied the scientist. 

“And another thing,” spoke up Chester, chuckling to 
himself. “Mary Ann is as mad as a hornet, and I 
wouldn’t be surprised to see her haul you over the coals 
for delaying her supper.” 

“Don’t let that dreadful woman come near me, boys,” 
exclaimed the professor, in alarm. “I’ll promise not to 
bother you again, if you only make her keep away.” 

“Very well; we will chain her up on that condition,” 
agreed Gage, with mock gravity. 

A few moments later they arrived at the camp. The 
professor’s appearance was greeted with genuine relief by 
all, and, although Mary Ann pretended to be angry at the 


184 The Hole in the Ground. 

postponement of her supper, yet it was apparent that she, 
too, was greatly delighted at the scientist’s return. 

A messenger was sent to recall the other search parties, 
and then our hero and his companions partook of their 
first meal that day. 

Four parties, of two men each, were selected as the first 
watch, and an equal number designated as their relief at 
midnight. Chester was placed in charge of the former, 
and Captain Brett told off to command the latter. 

After all arrangements had been made, the little camp 
retired, to snatch what sleep they could, until a new day 
came, with its responsibilities and adventures. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


IN TERRIBLE PERIL. 

The first rays of the sun found the camp astir. Tom 
awoke betimes and called all hands just as Old Sol peeped 
over the eastern horizon. 

After breakfast, the young leader called a consultation 
of his aids — Chester and Captain Brett. 

‘‘We have a lot of work to accomplish to-day, and we 
must set about it at once,” he said, strolling down to the 
beach with them. “Our first duty is to secure the stores 
left aboard, and also make a thorough examination of the 
yacht.” 

“I see one thing what pleases me,” replied the old skip- 
per, running his experienced eye over sky and sea, “and 
that is a timely change in the weather. All them clouds 
have cleared away, you see. The wind has gone down, 
an’ if we was only a trifle farther north we would have a 
balmy day. I’m thinking.” 

“And I see another thing that pleases me more,” chimed 
in Gage, pointing toward the distant horizon. 

“What do you mean?” asked Tom, looking in the direc- 


tion indicated. 


i86 In Terrible Peril.Qtc^. 

“Why, the disappearance of the Nighthawk. She has 
gone.” 

“That’s a fact. I hope she never returns.” 

^** AmenJ ^ exclaimed Captain Brett, jferventlyj “Them 
people aboard is a bad lot, and if the deep-sea sharks had 
their dues they would make a meal off the whole caboodle. 
Howsomever, I can’t help but believe that we ha^ven’t 
seen the last of the barky. It won’t do to relax our look- 
out just because she’s out o’ sight.” 

“Not by any means,” firmly replied Tom. “They ai;e 
treacherous enemies, and will employ treacherous me^s 
to circun^yent us. Nicholas Flint is not the man to give 
up a chance for revenge so easy. And another thing, it 
seems from what one of our prisoners said, that Captain 
Scroggins found traces of a valuable treasure on this 
island during his previous voyage. Do you think for a 
moment such people as they would sail away and sur- 
render it without any number of trials ?” 

“Not on your life,” promptly acknowledged Chester. 
Then he added, quickly : 

“A treasure on the island, eh? Whoop! That makes 
things interesting. After we are straightened up, we 
must organize a treasure party, and search for the hidden 
gold, or whatever it is.” 

“That can wait until we provide a means to leave the 
island,” said Tom, gravely. “That is the burning ques- 


In Terrible Peril. 187 

tion of the hour, I can assure you. The professor told me 
last night that the water in the hole into which he fell is 
salt.^^ 

“Strange,” remarked the old skipper, shaking his head. 

“Not only strange, but serious,” continued Tom. “We 
haven’t a great deal of water on the Explorer, and there is 
every possibility the tanks forward were smashed by that 
fall of ice.” 

After a few moments of further conversation, Tom 
ordered Captain Brett to launch and man the two cutters 
for a trip to the iceberg. 

“While we are away, you can take charge of the camp,” 
he said ^to Chester. . “Send a couple of trusty men to the 
other side of the island, as lookouts, and employ the 
others in arranging the camp for a stay. I guess the loca- 
tion is about as good as any we can find, so we will stay 
here until we are ready to leave, which I hope will be 
soon.” 

“How would it do to build a lookout place on one of 
those tall palms?” asked Gage. “One of the sailors can 
climb it, and it will be easy to construct a platform up 
there. A rope ladder can also be rigged from the top.” 

“All right. Go ahead and try it,” approved our hero. 
“But whatever you do, don’t let the professor stray away 


again and fall into any more holes,” 


i88 


In Terrible Peril. 


“I’ll deputize Mary Ann as a guard over him,” grinned 
Chester. “He won’t dare to stir then.” 

Shortly after, Tom and Captain Brett were on their way 
to the berg with the two cutters. It soon became apparent 
to them that the huge mass of ice had drifted considerably 
nearer the island during the night. 

“I am glad to see it,” remarked Tom, cheerfully. “I 
only hope the berg will touch shore. It will make our 
task all the easier.” 

On gaining the other side, they found the Explorer in 
her former position. The cutters were brought alongside, 
and the party boarded the yacht at the gangway. 

The young leader now had an opportunity to see the 
damage wrought by the catastrophe of the previous day. 
Forward of the waist, the deck of the yacht was piled 
high with a mass of ice, in lumps of all sizes and shapes. 

The foremast had been broken off a few feet above the 
pin rail, and the huge spar hung over the side, with a 
tangle of cordage trailing in the water. 

The bulwarks had been carried away, and the forecastle 
leveled, and altogether, the scene was one of complete 
wreckage. 

“All this looks bad enough, but it really amounts to 
very little if the hull is still sound,” said Tom, going for- 
ward with the captain. 


In Terrible Peril. 


189 


“Right you are, sir. I can patch up a jury-mast and 
straighten things around decks in no time, if the old 
hooker will float. Wait a moment, Tom, and I’ll sound 
the well.” 

This telltale maneuver was speedily accomplished, and 
the result was very gratifying to the young leader and his 
companion. To their joy they found only nine inches of 
water in the bilges. 

“By George! that is splendid news!” exclaimed Tom, 
shaking hands with the old skipper in his enthusiasm. 
“Now there is some hope for us, eh ?” 

“According to this, she must be as sound as a trivet 
below decks,” replied Brett, with a chuckle of delight. 

Proceeding forward, they examined the bows and side 
plates, and found but little permanent damage. It was 
now obvious to all that the Explorer had received only a 
trifling injury, and that her stability was not impaired. 

“Set the men to work transferring all stores to the cut- 
ters,” said Tom. “It will be necessary to lighten the 
yacht, anyway, I should judge, and we may as well land 
everything at once.” 

The sailors turned to with a will, cheered by the knowl- 
edge that they still had a vessel under their feet. When 
the boats were loaded, a quick trip was made to the island, 
and another cargo disembarked. 


190 


In Terrible Peril. 


By noon, the Explorer was empty, with the exception 
of several tanks of water, which Tom concluded to leave 
on board. 

While the men were thus engaged, the young leader 
and Captain Brett carefully examined the ledge of ice 
astern of the Explorer, finally reaching the conclusion 
that a number of charges of powder would crack the shelf 
sufficiently to form a channel. 

“We may as well set about it this afternoon,” suggested 
Tom. “Delay may be dangerous, and there is no reason 
why Great grief! what was that?” 

They were standing aft, near the quarter, and, just as 
our hero was in the act of addressing the captain, a sud- 
den tremor in the hull of the Explorer interrupted him. 

Before Brett could reply, the deck upon which they 
stood quivered with a terrible strain, a deafening report 
sounded from, apparently, in the very heart of the mighty 
berg, and the summit was seen to totter and fall with a 
crash, directly ahead of the yacht. 

The shock resulting from the stupendous mass of ice 
striking the outlying floe was terrific. Thrown to the 
deck, Tom and his companions lay trembling in every 
limb, expecting that each succeeding moment would bring 
destruction to all. 


In Terrible Peril. 


191 

The old skipper was the first to arise. Staggering to 
his feet, he exclaimed, hoarsely: 

“To the boats ! To the boats ! All hands !” 

“What has happened?” gasped Tom, joining him. 

“The berg is breaking up, and is liable to turn over at 
any moment,” was the startling reply. 

As if to give emphasis to the old navigator’s words, the 
mountain of ice trembled to its very center, and then 
rocked back and forth so violently that the yacht slipped a 
dozen feet astern. 

This was the last straw. Wild with fear, the crew 
tumbled pell-mell into the cutters, and shoved off before 
either Tom or the captain had time to follow. 

Springing up on the after-rail, our hero, shook his fist 
at the recreant sailors, crying, huskily : 

“Come back, you cowards! Would you leave us here 
to perish?” 

His words had not the slightest effect. Rendered 
selfish by terror, the men pulled away from the yacht at 
their utmost speed, leaving Tom and Captain Brett star- 
ing after them in despair. 

“We are doomed, Tom,” said the latter, brokenly. “It 
is all up with us. I have seen these — look out! She is 
going! Heaven have mercy on ” 

With a thunderous report, sounding to the imperiled 


igz 


In Terrible Peril. 


twain like the crack of doom, another peak became de- 
tached from the main part of the berg and fell. The 
central mass heaved convulsively, and with a terrific 
lunge, the Explorer was forced from the shelf and sent 
stern first out on the bosom of the ocean ! 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


AFTER THE PERIL. 

Thrown prostrate by the terrible shock, Tom and his 
companion were literally washed bodily into the scuppers 
by the tremendous rush of water over the stern. 

There they lay, gasping and choking, and clinging tooth 
and nail to the bulwark stanchions for several minutes, 
during which time the yacht continued to roll frightfully 
from side to side. 

At last — finding they were still alive, and with whole 
bones — both hastily scrambled to their feet, and gazed 
with wonder at the scene spread out before them. 

Dotting the surface for a mile around, were innumer- 
able fragments of ice, being tossed hither and yon by the 
agitated waters. Close to the island, was the main por- 
tion of the once mighty berg, now only a quarter of its 
original size, and entirely changed in appearance. 

It was a truly wonderful transformation; but that 
which instantly riveted the attention of our hero and Cap- 
tain Brett was the, fact that the Explorer still floated, safe 
and sound. 

When the knowledge dawned upon their still bewil- 


After the Peril. 


194 

dered minds, both wept for very joy, and solemnly clasped 
hands in the excess of emotion. 

“It’s too good to be true, Tom,” exclaimed the old 
skipper, wiping his eyes, and then breaking out again. “I 
— I — can’t understand it yet. I thought we were gone 
up — up the spout sure, that time.” 

“No, thank Heaven, it is a fact !” replied our hero, so- 
berly. Then he suddenly jumped upon the cabin hatch 
out of the water which still encumbered the deck, and 
danced a rollicking jig, at the same time lifting his voice 
in such a series of whoops that Chester must have heard 
him on the distant island. 

The old skipper stared at him in surprise for a brief 
period, then he, too, caught the infection, and if any one 
had been there to see it they would have looked upon the 
strange spectacle of a youth and a grizzled old seaman 
dancing a remarkable hornpipe for very joy. 

This ebullition of spirits dirl^not last long. Now that 
the safety of the yacht was assured, there was work to do. 

Signaling the cutters, Tom shouted to the crews to 
come alongside at once, which they did, with downcast 
looks and shamed faces. 

“Now, my men, I only intend to say a couple of words 
concerning your cowardly and despicable action in desert- 
ing us,” said the young leader, sternly. “You were, no 
doubt, greatly frightened, but that is a poor excuse, and I 


After the Peril. 


195 

wish you to understand from now on, that not a cent will 
you receive from me on our return home, except your 
rightful wages.’' 

‘‘And what I have to say, you miserable sharks, is that 
I only wish we had a yardarm left to string your das- 
tardly carcasses to,” roared Captain Brett, wrathfully. 
“Now go for’ard and clear away that wreck, or I’ll take 
a rope’s end to ye.” 

The sailors slunk away and began the task thus ordered, 
and, be it said to their credit, they were as thoroughly a 
crestfallen lot as one would care to see. 

At the end of an hour of hard work, enough sail was 
spread on the mainmast, and a jury stick set up forward, 
to force the yacht along at a couple of knots’ speed. 

Taking the wheel. Captain Brett steered the craft 
through the scattered fragments of the iceberg, and finally 
brought up within a few hundred yards of the island. 

“Clear away the anchor for’ard !” he shouted, giving the 
wheel to Tom. “Stand by ! Let her go !” 

The chain rattled through the hawse-pipes as the heavy 
mass of iron plunged into the sea. Fathom after fathom 
paid out, until there suddenly came a cry from the bow : 

“Sixty, and no bottom !” 

“What ! No bottom at sixty fathoms ?” shouted the old 
skipper, aghast. “What kind of a place is this, anyway ? 
Shut her off there and clasp a stopper on the cable. 


196 After the Peril. 

Humph ! No bottom, and within a stone’s throw of the 
beach!” 

“That reminds me that the bark was not anchored, 
either,” spoke up Tom. “Maybe the island is of coral 
formation, and rises sheer from the sea.” 

“There’s something blamed queer about the whole 
thing,” muttered Captain Brett, shaking his head omi- 
nously. “In the fust place, what business has an island 
with palms and other tropical vegetation, doing down here 
in the Antarctic Circle. That’s what I’d like to know. 
It’s ain’t natural.” 

“You are certainly right there,” agreed Tom. “How- 
ever, we’ll talk that over later. Perhaps the professor can 
enlighten us. Last night he hinted at a discovery he had 
made, but he was so wrapped up in that confounded onion 
that I couldn’t get anything out of him.” 

“We’ll have to keep her under sail and stand on and 
off,” concluded the old skipper. “Meanwhile, we had 
better go ashore and explain matters, or them people on 
the beach will be swimming off to us.” 

Tom glanced toward the island, and saw Chester and 
the entire occupants of the camp standing at the edge of 
the water. Young Gage was waving his arms like a wild 
man, and seemed on the point of casting himself into the 
sea, in his impatience to hear the news. 

Violet was rapidly pacing up and down the beach in a 


After the Peril. 


197 

high state of excitement, and Mary Ann — that emotional 
Irishwoman — could be seen leaping in the air, and uttering 
such tremendous whoops of joy that Tom and the skipper 
hastened ashore, if only to quiet her. 

They had hardly landed, when the crowd was upon 
them, all asking the most extraordinary questions in the 
same breath. 

Chester grasped Tom’s hand, and after giving it a 
hearty shake, said, with much feeling: 

“Chum, I — I — thought it was all up With you, indeed I 
did. Thank Heaven you escaped from that frightful peril 
safely ! By Jove ! When the berg split up and turned 
over, I just fell down on the ground and — wished that I 
was dead.” 

At that moment, Mary Ann burst into tears and threw 
her arms around Captain Brett’s neck, with a suddenness 
that almost felled him. Before the astonished skipper 
could escape, she was weeping down his back, saying, be- 
tween sobs : 

“Achone ! an’ Oi t’ought ye wuz dead, too. Oi am so 
glad yez have come back to yer own Mary Ann. Don’t 
run any more such risks, captain, dharlin’.” 

The look on the old skipper’s face was comical in the 
extreme. He gasped forth a request for her to release 
him, but Mary Ann clung to him like a leech, and it re- 
quired the services of three men to separate them. 


198 After the Peril. 

After that, it was noticed that the old mariner wore a 
hunted look, and dodged every time the Irish maid glanced 
in his direction. 

Violet’s greeting, although reserved, was warm, and 
Tom took occasion to explain the incidents of the day to 
her alone, while the captain enlightened the others. 

Even the professor forgot his specimens for the time 
being, and received our hero with open arms. After a 
while dinner was prepared, and every one sat down with a 
feeling of thankfulness that none were absent by reason of 
the stirring events of the morning. 

It was decided to repair the yacht before embarking, so, 
after an afternoon’s hard work, the party again went into 
camp for the night. Sentries were posted, as before, and 
all went well until shortly before the time for calling the 
second watch. Tom was stretched out under a couple of 
blankets, not far from the fire, sleeping the sleep of youth, 
when he was suddenly awakened by Chester who whis- 
pered excitedly : 

“Tom, Tom! wake up and call all hands! The bark 
has just been sighted creeping up on the other side of the 
island ! Hurry ! She is already near the beach 1” 


CHAPTER XXVIL 


TOM IS CAPTURED. 

When Chester called Tom so unceremoniously, shortly 
before the midnight, and gave him the startling informa- 
tion that the Nighthawk was stealthily approaching the 
other side of the island, our hero sprang to his feet and 
immediately sounded the alarm. 

Arousing the old skipper — who was sleeping nearby — 
Tom bade him take a squad of men and hurry to the scene 
of the expected attack. 

“Now, chum, I am going to delegate to you an impor- 
tant charge,” he added, to Gage, after seeing Captain 
Brett on his way. 

“Send me around with the cutters to head them off?” 
eagerly replied that impetuous youth. 

“No ; I want you to take three men and watch the camp 
while the rest of us are away. In fact, I wish to place the 
safety of Violet and her maid in your hands, and ” 

“You stay here, Tom,” interrupted Chester, impatiently. 
“You are the one for that business.” 

It was plainly evident Master Gage desired to be pres- 
ent in that locality where the most fighting was to be an- 
ticipated. Tom was obdurate, however, and, after ad- 


200 


Tom is Captured. 


monishing his chum anew, he left for the opposite side of 
the island with another party of his fighting force. 

He had not forgotten to explain matters to Violet, as- 
suring her that little danger need be expected from the 
enemy after all, as the two crews were about equal in 
strength. 

The trip across the island was made in short order. On 
reaching the spot designated, Tom found that Captain 
Brett had stationed his men at intervals along the beach, 
with instructions to reserve their fire until he gave the 
word. 

A wintry moon, beaming cold and clear from the 
heavens, furnished sufficient light to render objects visible 
at some distance off shore, and by its aid the young leader 
saw the black hull of the Nighthawk lying motionless in 
the water, within a mile of the island. 

Two dark spots midway between the ship and the island 
were easily distinguishable as boats, evidently filled with 
men. They were being softly rowed toward the beach, 

Tom thanked the inspiration that had caused him to 
station guards on all sides of the island. If it had not 
been for the forethought, Nicholas Flint and his compan- 
ions would have undoubtedly surprised the cam.p during 
the night. 

“I see that we are just in time,” he said, joining Captain 
Brett. 


201 


Tom is Captured. 

“Ye’re right there, sir. Just in time to give them fellers 
a warm reception, and we are going to do it, eh? It’s a 
good opportunity to teach them a lesson they won’t forget 
in a hurry.” 

“What do you suggest, captain?” asked Tom, keeping 
his eyes on the approaching boats. 

The old navigator shifted his quid thoughtfully, and 
then replied in no uncertain tone : 

“Let them land, and then pour in a volley slap bang! 
What’s left we can capture and hold as prisoners. That’s 
my idea.” 

Tom smiled, but shook his head emphatically. 

“Looking at it from one point of view, your plan is the 
best. It would certainly rid us of those scoundrels, but I 
can’t bring myself to such a cold-blooded slaughter,” he 
replied. 

“They would do the same by you.” 

“Acknowledged. But we hardly occupy their level. 
No ; I think the best plan would be to fire a volley now and 
drive them away. It will show them that we are alert, 
and they won’t try to land.” 

“Ye’ll live to regret your soft-heartedness,” growled the 
old skipper, evidently disappointed. “They will only come 
back again when we ain’t watching so keerfully.” 

“But we must continue to watch carefully while we are 
on the island,” replied Tom. “No, captain, I don’t want 


202 


Tom is Captured. 


to cause any suffering when it can be avoided. Give your 
men orders to fire in the air now; the boats are near 
enough.” 

The old skipper obeyed, but with very bad grace. He 
spoke a few words to the sailors nearest him, and a second 
later several reports rang out simultaneously. 

The effect was not as Tom had anticipated or desired. 

Instead of retreating, the boats from the bark separated, 
and pulled for the beach at their utmost speed. It was 
plainly evident the crews did not intend to be thus fright- 
ened off. 

Despite the seriousness of the moment. Captain Brett 
could not refrain from indulging in a hearty chuckle of 
satisfaction. 

“Now will ye shoot to hit ?” he asked. 

“Yes, and their blood be on their own heads,” was the 
determined reply. “I have given them a chance, but they 
are looking for a fight, so we will try to satisfy them.” 

Tom had ten men at his command, including the old 
skipper and one of the prisoners. Three had been left 
in camp to assist Chester, in case any of the Nighthmvk's 
crew should succeed in crossing the island. 

Dividing his force, Tom sent Captain Brett with one 
party down the beach to meet the yawl heading in that 
direction, while he remained with five men to receive the 


Tom is Captured. 203 

longboat, which was the larger of the two, and contained 
a greater number of the enemy. 

By the time all preparations had been made, the at- 
tacking force had arrived within a hundred yards of the 
beach. Still loath to shed blood, Tom called out, in a loud 
voice : 

“Keep away, you men from the Nighthawk, or we’ll 
fire ! We are prepared for you. This is the last 
warning !” 

A derisive shout came from the longboat, and then one 
of the men sitting in the stern, discharged a pistol point- 
blank at the speaker. 

This insolent defiance brought a speedy response from 
those on the shore. Without waiting for their leaders to 
give the word, the men sent a volley in the direction of the 
approaching boats. 

The sharp reports were instantly followed by a chorus 
of groans, and then two members of the yawl staggered to 
their feet and fell across the gunwale. 

“Give it to them again,” cried Captain Brett, huskily. 
“The treacherous sharks ain’t got any right to live. Give 
it to them, boys !” 

Once more the spiteful crack of the rifles was heard, 
and this time the attacking party was thrown into such 
confusion that the men ceased rowing. It was not for 
long, however. 


204 


Tom is Captured. 


“Rally, men !” came the command, in the well-known 
voice of Nicholas Flint. “One more spurt and we’ll make 
the beach. Remember the treasure !” 

The magical word acted as a spur upon the crew, and 
they took to the oars again with such a vim that both boats 
were in the inner line of breakers before Tom and his com- 
panions could fire another round. 

A hand-to-hand conflict was inevitable. 

Seeing this, the young leader and Captain Brett, each 
in charge of his respective party, rushed down to the 
water’s edge, discharging their revolvers as they ran. 

“Don’t let them land ! Shoot them down in their 
boats !” cried Tom. 

The skipper repeated the order at the top of his sten- 
torian voice. An answering cry came from Nicholas Flint 
— a cry so cruel and revengeful that our hero became wild 
with anger. 

“At them, bullies ! Sweep the curs from the island ! 
Half my share of the treasure to the man capturing Tom 
Truxton!” were the words he heard. 

A moment later, the forces under Tom and the captain 
were up to their knees in the breakers, engaged in a des- 
perate struggle with the enemy. They arrived just in time 
to prevent them from leaving the boats, and for a brief 
space the combat raged in the midst of the spume and 


Tom is Captured. 205 

spray tossed up by the waves as they rolled upon the 
shingle. 

Back and forth surged the antagonists, now one side 
claiming a temporary victory, only to have it wrested 
from them by a successful coup. After several ineffectual 
efforts, Nicholas Flint and his crews succeeded in forcing 
their way from the boats. 

The fighting was now more even. Man to man, the 
combatants found themselves with none to spare. Guns 
and revolvers had been abandoned, or were used as clubs 
at short range. 

At the beginning of the fight, Tom was arrayed against 
a stalwart sailor, who stood wielding the broken end of an 
oar as a child would a feather. This giant had already 
placed one of the island force hors de combat when the 
young leader stepped into the breach. 

Tom saw at a glance that he could not cope with the 
fellow, physically. He was but a youth, and knew full 
well that only an ignominious defeat could result without 
he called some other power than bare muscular force to 
his aid. 

All this flashed over his mind while the sailor was pois- 
ing his club for a blow. In the moonlight Tom saw a 
sneer of contempt creep over the fellow’s face, then just as 
a taunting laugh came to his ears, Tom found an ally, 
and used it. 


2o6 Tom is Captured. 

It was a revolver, lying on the sand away from the 
water’s edge. Knocked from the hand of some strug- 
gling fighter, it lay there cocked and primed. It was but 
the work of a second to snatch up the weapon. 

A quick aim — taken haphazard — a flash and a snappish 
report, and the herculean sailor dropped his cudgel, reeled 
backward, and fell into the breakers with a sullen splash. 

Tom permitted himself a short word of congratulation, 
and then turned to find a stocky-built youth at his side. 
It was Rufus Kane. The recognition was mutual. 

Breathing defiance, the two ancient enemies sprang at 
each other, and in a moment were locked in a desperate 
grasp. An athlete from training, sturdy and strong from 
a life spent in the open air, and amid vigorous pursuits, 
Tom found no trouble in conquering Kane. Giving him 
a skillful twist backward, he threw the bully into the 
water, and then was just in the act of seeking another foe 
when the stock of a gun descended upon his head, and he 
fell senseless at the feet of his assailant — Nicholas Flint. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


RUFUS AMUSES HIMSELF. 

Captain Brett had fought several hard battles in his life. 
A veteran of the Civil War, he could tell of many hotly- 
contested combats, and “warm corners’^ on various battle- 
fields, but he had never before found himself so hard 
pressed and thoroughly well occupied as on the sandy 
beach of the little island that night. 

The men in the yawl fought like fiends. Ever and 
anon, when it seemed as if the sturdy skipper was getting 
the best of it, some one would call out hoarsely : 

“The treasure ! Remember the treasure 

Then with wild whoops of defiance, the sailors from the 
bark would gain renewed strength, and attack Brett and 
his contingent so lustily that they would be forced to give 
way. 

Once only did the skipper find time to look over to 
where Tom was engaged. What he saw at the moment 
was encouraging, and he fell to again with a vim. 

It was when the youth had just sent the giant sailor to 
oblivion. 

The captain did not see the subsequent struggle with 
Rufus Kane, nor the cruel blow that sent his young com- 


2o8 


Rufus Amuses Himself. 


panion headlong upon the sand, unconscious. Neither did 
he sees Nicholas Flint toss up his hands in exultation of 
spirits at the success of his shrewd stroke, nor behold him 
hastily drag Tom to the longboat, assisted by Kane, but 
that was what happened. 

While the Explorer’s crew were engaged in a fierce and 
absorbing physical argument with the mariners from the 
bark, Tom’s two arch enemies finally contrived to bundle 
him over the gunwale into the bottom of the craft. 

Then Nicholas Flint blew a shrill blast upon a whistle. 
It was the signal for retreat. The sound had hardly died 
away when several sailors were assisting Flint to shove the 
longboat free from the shore. 

A moment later, all those able to move lively, had 
scrambled aboard, and the craft was speedily thrust be- 
yond the line of breakers. At first, the other side thought 
it was an ignominious flight, and they gave vent to sev- 
eral triumphant cheers. 

Then Captain Brett saw that Tom had disappeared, and 
he instantly divined the truth. Wild with wrath and de- 
spair, he rushed into the water and attempted to reach the 
longboat. 

He was too late. Only a mocking shout crowned his 
efforts. 

“Men, those scoundrels have captured Tom!” shouted 


Rufus Amuses Himself. 


209 

the skipper, in an agonized voice. “Don’t let them escape ! 
After them. Seize that other boat !” 

But in the meantime, the crew of the yawl had taken ad- 
vantage of the excitement, and were just in the act of 
shoving their craft clear of the beach when Captain Brett’s 
order was given. 

Several of the yacht’s sailors made a desperate attempt 
to stop them, but the effort came tardily, and the yawl was 
soon following the longboat. 

A desultory fire was opened on the retreating boats, but 
without effect. At last, the skipper saw that Tom was 
past deliverance, and he gave free vent to his emotions in 
a string of imprecations, which, if not effective, no doubt 
relieved him vastly. 

“It’s not only the losing of him,” he said to the man 
nearest him, “but now I have got to go back to the camp 
and face that girl who loves him, and his chum, and the 
rest. No, by Jupiter! I’ll have that lad out of the 
clutches of them rogues if it costs me my life ! Back to 
the camp and launch the cutters I We’ll follow them to 
the infernal regions I” 

The dead — of which there were three, one of the Ex- 
plorer's crew, and the remaining two of the enemy — were 
given a hasty burial in the sand ; the injured were patched 
up as well as possible, and then the party struck across the 
island at their utmost speed, 


210 


Rufus Amuses Himself. 


In the longboat, Nicholas Flint and young Kane were 
holding a jubilee over their captive, who had recovered 
from the effects of Nicholas Flint’s dastardly blow, but 
was now lying, trussed hand and foot, in the bottom of 
the boat. 

Giving the prisoner a brutal kick, Rufus asked with a 
malicious grin : 

“Well, Tom Truxton, how do you feel now, eh?” 

Tom made no reply. 

“It took us a long time to get hold of you, but I guess 
we have succeeded at last,” continued the stocky-built 
youth. “Now we will show you what revenge is, eh, 
Flint?” 

“There are a great many entries against his name,” re- 
plied Tom’s late guardian, suavely. “But I think we can 
wipe out the score before long.” 

“That we will, but we must have a little fun first. I 
want to get hold of Chester Gage, and that old fool of a 
professor, and Tom’s sweetheart, and set them up in a row 
on deck so that they’ll have front seats at his punish- 
ment.” 

“Don’t leave out Mary Ann,” added Flint, chuckling. 

“Confound Mary Ann !” exclaimed Rufus Kane, his 
gayety changed to sullenness. 

Giving Tom — ^his helpless prisoner — another kick, he 
continued : 


Rufus Amuses Himself. 21 1 

‘*ril never be satisfied until I tie a stone around her neck 
and pitch her into the sea. I have the marks on my face 
yet where she whacked me.” 

By this time the boats had almost reached the bark, 
which was lying to, with sails aback, awaiting them. 
Leaning over the after rail was Captain Scroggins. His 
right arm hung in a sling over his breast. 

'How did ye make out?” he bawled. "Did them fellers 
drive ye away?” 

“No ; we retreated in good order,” replied Flint. “We 
got what we went for !” 

“What! Did ye git the treasure?” came the question, 
eagerly. 

“No, but we got almost as good a prize. We have Tom 
Truxton.” 

“Whoop ! Bring him aboard till I clap my peepers on 
him. I want to see the feller what caused all this trouble, 
a-keeping me away from my island. I’ll hang him to the 
yardarm as a warning to the rest ; that’s what I’ll do.” 

Poor Tom was bundled over the gangway with little 
ceremony. Casting off the lashing around his legs, Flint 
bade him stand up. Cramped from the confinement, he 
did not move quickly enough to suit the speaker. 

Grasping him roughly by the collar, Nicholas gave him 
a jerk, and then thrust him against the mainmast so vio- 
lently that Tom almost cried out with the pain. 


212 Rufus Amuses Himself. 

“You brute he cried. “You would not dare do that if 
my hands were free.’’ 

“Shut up, or I’ll give you a taste of a rope’s end,” re- 
plied Nicholas, fuming with rage. “I’ll have you under- 
stand that you are in our power now. If you don’t realize 
it, you will before long.” 

The last sentence was uttered so grimly that Tom shud- 
dered, in spite of his brave nature. He felt that he was in 
a desperate situation. A prisoner in the hands of his im- 
placable enemies, and confined on board a vessel where his 
friends could not reach him — small wonder that he almost 
lost heart. 

He resolved to show a bold front, and not permit any of 
his captors any satisfaction from taunting him. Facing 
Captain Scroggins, who had just stepped up, he said 
quietly : 

“I see you bear the marks of our machine gun. You 
can thank your lucky stars the cutters were compelled to 
stop the pursuit, or else you and your fine companions 
might be prisoners, instead of I.” 

“Talk’s cheap, my lad,” replied the captain, with a grin. 
“What might have been has nothing to do with it. We’ve 
got ye now, and ye’ll dangle at the end of one o’ them 
yards before ye’re many days older.” 

“I think we had better stand out a little farther from 


Rufus Amuses Himself. 213 

land/' suggested Flint, joining them. “They might take 
a notion to attack us.” 

“They ain’t got nothing except the cutters, and we can 
soon git out o’ their reach.” 

“Ah, ha ! They don’t know yet that we have saved the 
yacht,” muttered Tom, seeing a glimmer of hope in that 
discovery. 

“However, I guess we had better do as you say,” con- 
tinued Captain Scroggins, finally. “It’s always best to be 
on the safe side. We’ll drop the island astern seven or 
eight knots, and wait until morning.” 

Tom was taken aft, and locked up in one of the state- 
rooms. The bark was put before the wind, and presently, 
watchful eyes on the island saw her fade away in the dis- 
tant gloom, like a foul bird of the night. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


TREASURE ON THE ISLAND. 

The news of Tom’s capture was received at the camp with 
the greatest consternation. At first Chester refused to be- 
lieve it, and rebuked Captain Brett for hazarding such a 
joke. When he saw that it was true, the faithful lad had 
hard work keeping back the tears. Violet — who was up, 
awaiting the return of the party — ^became very white when 
she heard Captain Brett’s sorrowful voice give the bad 
tidings, and had it not been for Mary Ann’s sheltering 
arm, she would have fallen. 

“Cheer oop, dharling,” said the Irishwoman, soothingly. 
“Tom’s worth twinty dead min yet. He’s only a prisoner, 
an’ it’s th’ loikes of him as’ll show thim spalpanes a thrick 
or two. Now go insoide th’ tint, dear, an’ wait till Oi git 
th’ full particulars.” 

When Violet crept sadly into the canvas tent, Tom’s 
thoughtfulness had provided for them after the saving of 
the yacht, Mary Ann strode forth into the circle of light 
cast by the camp-fire. 

Her eyes were blazing with excitement, and her breath 
came in short, quick gasps. Snatching up a cutlass lying 
on the ground, she said, sternly : 


Treasure on the Island. 


215 


‘‘An^ phat be yez doing shtanding here whoile yer 
master is a prisoner in th’ hands o' thim villains ? An' is 
it talk ye must, whin yez should be acting ? If there be no 
man among yez to lead thim sailors, Oi'll do it, an' glad 
av th' chance." 

Professor Pickle, who had been wringing his hands, and 
evidently overcome with emotion, stepped forward, and, 
to the surprise of all, picked up a gun and ranged himself 
alongside of the Irishwoman. 

“I am ready to go with you to rescue poor Thomas," he 
said, quietly. 

"‘Bully fur ye, ould man !" exclaimed Mary Ann, patting 
him on the back. “We’ll go, anyway, even if th’ rist don’t 
folly." 

“All this is nonsense and a waste of time,” spoke up 
Chester, sternly. “Do you think for a moment we are not 
going to his rescue? There isn’t any use in pursuing the 
bark with the cutters, as she has put to sea. What we 
must do is to fit up the yacht as quickly as possible, and 
attack the Nighthawk from her deck." 

This view of the case was so obviously sensible, that 
even Mary Ann saw the wisdom of it. No time was lost 
in further arguments. Every man able to work hurried 
aboard the Explorer, and under the experienced guidance 
of Captain Brett, the yacht was soon being placed in tem- 
porary repair. 


2i6 


Treasure on the Island. 


It was not an easy task. The jury masts had to be 
strengthened; ropes and stays and running rigging rove 
anew ; the decks cleared and braced up forward, and new 
sails bent, fore and aft. 

To add to the delay, the moon vanished behind a heavy 
bank of clouds, leaving a darkness so intense that the 
men found it very difficult to work with any degree of 
speed. 

“As this is going to be a chase, we’ll save more time by 
doing good work now,” replied the old skipper, to an im- 
patient remark from Chester. “S’pose we rush out with 
the sticks all a-wobble, and then carry something away 
just at the critical moment, eh? That would put us in a 
nice fix, now, wouldn’t it?” 

It was almost daybreak before the yacht was in readi- 
ness to sail. Just as the first grayish light heralding the 
coming of dawn appeared. Captain Brett informed Gage 
that the pursuit could be commenced at once. 

“Now, the question is,” he added, “who’s going, and 
who will stay behind ?” 

“I was thinking about that,” replied Chester, reflect- 
ively. “It won’t do to take Violet and Mary Ann with 
us, as they would only be in the way, and if it comes to a 
fight, they might get hurt.” 

“We’ve got two wounded men. Why not leave them 
and the professor in charge of the ladies ?” 


Treasure on the Island. 217 

‘‘That will do.” 

“Professor Pickle can take command of the home 
force, eh?” 

“No, indeed. Mary Ann is the one for that. She’s 
worth ten professors in a scrimmage. Not that I expect 
any trouble, but it is always best to be prepared.” 

Leaving the skipper to finish the preparations, Chester 
hurried ashore, and told the Irishwoman of the new ar- 
rangements. 

“Now, I am going to leave you in charge,” Chester 
added. “You will have Tompkins and Jones and the pro- 
fessor. If the bark should slip by us and approach the 
island, you had better retreat to the interior.” 

“That’s all very well to say, Mr. Gage, but phy should 

% 

Oi remain here, whin there’s a chance av a little fun where 
ye’re going?” protested Mary Ann. 

“But if we take you, we’ll have to let all the rest go,” 
replied Chester. “And you know that the yacht will be no 
place for Violet when there’s fighting.” 

“Well, well; don’t say no more,” Mary Ann sighed. 
“It’s me luck to be cut off from all enj’yment in this 
worruld.” 

“Chester, do your best to save poor Thomas,” said Pro- 
fessor Pickle, wistfully. “I would give everything I pos- 
sess if he was here now, instead of in the power of those 
wretches. I blame myself for all this trouble. If I had 


2i8 Treasure on tlie Island. 

not been so eager to come down here this would not have 
happened.^’ 

“I feel sure that everything will come out all right,” re- 
sponded young Gage, cheerfully. “Nicholas Flint knows 
well that if harm comes to him he’ll have to answer for 
it. I think that he only wants to hold him as hostage, to 
exchange for the treasure they say is on this island.” 

“A treasure on this island?” echoed the professor, in 
surprise. “What do you mean?” 

“Why, a gold mine or something that Captain Scroggins 
says he found during his first voyage down here.” 

“The captain of the Nighthazvk, nor no other mortal, 
ever found a gold mine on this island,” emphatically re- 
plied the professor. 

“Why not ? Isn’t it possible ?” asked Chester, wonder- 
ingly. 

“No ; it is absolutely impossible.” 

“Why?” 

“Ye’re wastin’ precious toime argyfying here,” inter- 
rupted Mary Ann, impatiently. “Tom could be kilt an’ 
heaved into the ocean while yez be talkin’, an’ talkin’, an’ 
talkin’.” 

Violet, pale, and with traces of recent tears in her eyes, 
came out of the tent, and walked down to the boat with 
Gage. 

“Chester, if — if you only save Tom from his enemies. 


Treasure on the Island. 


219 

ril — I’ll be your debtor for life,” she said, tremulously. 
‘‘Do your best, please.” 

“Violet, I have only one life, but if I had a thousand I 
would lay them down to save Tom from harm,” replied 
Chester, simply. “Now, don’t worry, but keep up your 
spirits, and be prepared to welcome us when we return.” 

Ten minutes later, the Explorer spread her crippled 
wings, and stood around the southern point in search of 
the bark. The little party remaining on the island watched 
her disappear from sight with heartfelt prayers for the 
success of the expedition. 

“Now, there ain’t any use av us shtandin’ here an* 
wringin’ our fists,” said Mary Ann, practically. “We will 
git breakfast, an’ eat a little, whoile they go after Tom. 
It’s daylight already, an’ Oi do be wantin’ to cross over an’ 

see the fight in a few minutes. It’s mesilf Holy 

mither ! Phwat is the matter wid the professor ?” 

While Mary Ann was speaking, the professor suddenly 
uttered an exclamation of horror, and pointed with one 
shaking hand, toward the northern end of the island. 
Glancing in that direction they saw the Nighthawk slip 
into view, and stand toward them. Hanging at the end of 
the starboard main yardarm, was the figure of a youth, 
idly swinging in the wind ! 


CHAPTER XXX. 


TOM TRIES AN EXPERIMENT. 

Tom's thoughts were not of the most pleasant decrip- 
tion when he found himself a prisoner in the little state- 
room on board the bark. He had been thrust through the 
doorway in no gentle manner, and told to prepare himself 
for an early swing at the yardarm. 

This was not encouraging, to say the least. Then, 
added to that, his head ached frightfully from the shrewd 
blow given him by Nicholas Flint, and he also set to 
thinking about his present situation, and Chester, and 
Violet. 

His arms were still bound, but his legs were free. Stag- 
gering to his feet, he walked around the narrow apart- 
ment, and finally tumbled over into the bunk, where he lay, 
taking what ease he could under the circumstances. 

“By George ! this is what you might call a deuce of a 
fix," he muttered. “It certainly looks as if I am a goner 
this time, sure! Old Flint and the rest have the upper 
hand now, and if Chester doesn’t succeed in rescuing me, 
I guess I’ll swing for it.’’ 

Made restless by the thought, Tom scrambled to the 


Tom Tries an Experiment. 22 1 

deck, and began pacing up and down the seven feet of 
space forming the stateroom. 

“If I only had my hands free, I might stand some show 
for my life. Whoever tied them made a pretty good job 
of it. ril wager it wasn’t either Kane or Flint. Oh ! if I 
could only get the use of one arm even.” 

While talking to himself, Tom tugged at the l:.shing 
until the veins in his arms stood out like whipcords, but 
without avail. The rope had undoubtedly been placed 
there by an experienced sailor. 

Suddenly a voice in the outer cabin attracted the pris- 
oner’s attention, and he ceased his efforts and listened 
intently. 

“I tell ye, I’m for keeping him over to swap fur the 
treasure. Wot’s the use of fighting them people, and los- 
ing of valyble seamen, when we can trade off this here 
Tom Truxton for wot we came down here for.” 

“Confound the treasure! We will get that also!” re- 
plied the well-known voice of Nicholas Flint. He spoke 
angrily, and seemed greatly excited. After a brief pause, 
he added, in the same tone : 

“I am going to see that young scamp hanging at the 
yardarm before noon, and you might as well make up your 
mind to it. Captain Scroggins. We will secure the gold 
all right enough, don’t be afraid of that. There is no 
great hurry.” 


222 Tom Tries an Experiment. 

“Well, have yer own way,” sullenly replied his com- 
panion. “I don’t care a rap wot yer do with the young 
feller, so you help me git that air treasure.” 

The speakers moved away, still conversing. Just be- 
fore they passed out of hearing, Tom heard the captain 
mumble something to which Nicholas Flint made reply : 

“That may answer for the time being. I will think 
about it.” 

When they had finally gone, Tom drew a long breath, 
•and muttered : 

“That’s like a fellow hearing his death warrant read. 
What a bloodthirsty old wretch Nicholas Flint is ! Well, 
if I am going to escape from the necktie party they have in 
mind, I must be setting about it.” 

Though the words were careless, yet our hero felt the 
gravity of his position, and his heart sank within him as he 
realized that the coming of another day might end his 
career in this world. 

Tom was young, and youth is hopeful, yet when he 
strove again to break the cords binding his arms, and only 
succeeded in causing himself needless pain, he almost gave 
up in despair. 

Leaning against the bunk, he thought, long and deeply, 
of the many ways he had read by which prisoners had 
managed to escape. Among others, he remembered a case 
where a young naval officer, captured by Chinese pirates, 


223 


Tom Tries an Experiment. 

had torn away his bonds by the aid of a long spike found 
driven in the side of the junk’s hold, in which he was a 
captive. 

“Now, if I can run across a nail or a spike in this state- 
room, I’ll try his scheme,” thought Tom. “The worst I 
can do is to fail. Anything is better than this inaction.” 

Stepping away from the bunk, he edged along the bulk- 
head until he reached the door. Nothing bearing the 
slightest resemblance to a spike had he encountered. 

He tried it again, this time taking the opposite side of 
the apartment. Slowly and carefully, he rubbed his shoul- 
der over the smooth surface, taking pains to not leave an 
inch unexplored. 

“As poor old Chester would say : T’ll bet a dog I don’t 
find ’ Ha! what’s this?” 

His head had just grazed some projection. Straining 
his eyes he saw by the aid of the faint light flickering 
through the latticework of the door from the outer cabin, 
a hook screwed into the wood. 

For a moment, Tom felt as delighted as if he had found 
a gold mine. But the impression faded quickly. The 
hook might mean a way to freedom, and then it might not. 

Would it be strong enough ? Could he reach it with his 
arms tied behind his back? The last question Tom re- 


224 Tom Tries an Experiment. 

solved to ascertain at once. Kicking a stool over against 
the bulkhead, he mounted it, and then, placing his back to 
the wall, elevated his arms as far as he could. 

The first attempt resulted in failure. Trying again, he 
managed to catch the hook with the lower turn of the 
rope. Giving a strong tug, he felt it slip a trifle. 

Greatly encouraged, Tom repeated the operation several 
times, and at last had the huge satisfaction of feeling one 
coil drop from his arms. Three turns still remained. 

Taking a better purchase, he prepared to give a final 
tug, when the bark gave a sudden and unexpected lurch. 
A few seconds later, Tom found himself sprawling upon 
the deck, with his nose skinned, and a lump over one eye, 
but he was free. 

Disregarding the pain, he was just in the act of scram- 
bling erect, when a hand shook the door, and mocking 
voice asked : 

“I say there, Tom Truxton, how do you feel, eh? Ready 
for a rise in the world ?” 

“Yes, Rufus Kane,” replied Tom, cheerfully. “Tm 
ready when you are.” 

“You won’t speak so calmly when I put the rope around 
your neck, Tm thinking.” 

“There’s many a slip between the prisoner and the hang- 


Tom Tries an Experiment. 225 

man’s knot,” responded our hero, gleefully rubbing his 
hands. 

“Well, there won’t be any slip here. We’re going to 
sail back to the island now, and when daylight comes, we 
intend to string you up in full view of your friends on 
shore. I’m going to take a spyglass and watch the tears 
in Violet’s pretty eyes.” 

“Get out, you brute !” and Tom gave the door a wrath- 
ful kick. 

“Ha ! ha ! I thought that would fetch you.” 

Before Tom could reply. Captain Scroggins shouted 
down the skylight for Kane to come on deck and trim sail, 
instead of “skulkin’ around like a blasted landlubber.” 

It was now on the verge of dawn. The sickly rays of 
the cabin lamp had given way to a stronger refulgence. 
After waiting a while Tom tried the door, finding it 
locked. To a determined youth, this fact did not offer a 
very great obstacle. 

Placing his shoulder against it, he easily forced a pas- 
sage, and stepped into the outer cabin. Suddenly a feeble 
voice came from an adjacent stateroom : 

“What is that noise out there ? Is that you, Nicholas ?” 

“Ah, Cyrus Holt is still alive, I see,” muttered Tom, 
recognizing the speaker. “But he don’t talk as if he was 


226 Tom Tries an Experiment. 

in the best of health. If I had time, I would pay him a 
call, for old acquaintance’s sake.” 

Smiling at his own wit, our hero crept to the compan- 
ion hatch, and peered out on deck. Flint and the captain 
were standing near the gangway, superintending the hoist- 
ing of a peculiar-looking object to the main yardarm. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


THE ESCAPE. 

Tom gave a start of surprise when he recognized the 
object. Then he drew back and chuckled gleefully. It 
was a dummy, stuffed with oakum, that the men were 
swinging up to the end of the yard. 

“That’s me, I suppose,” grinned Tom. “They are going 
to work some scheme and try to make Chester and the 
rest believe that I have been hanged. Well, it’s better to 
stand here and look at the dummy than occupy its place, I 
must say.” 

Poking his head above the edge of the deck, he made 
another survey of his surroundings. Through a break in 
the rail, he saw the island just ahead. It was not over 
a mile away, and looked strangely out of place, with its 
nodding palms, in that dreary Antarctic latitude. 

“The way we are heading now, we ought to pass very 
close to the northern end,” mused Tom. “If I could only 
get overboard without any one seeing me, I believe I could 
make land. By George ! I’ll try it !” 

It was no easy thing he proposed to do. In the first 
place, it was extremely doubtful that he could escape the 
eyes of the men on deck. Then, if he succeeded in gain- 


228 


The Escape. 


ing the water unobserved, he would have to swim a long- 
distance, and then risk the breakers. 

One thing was in his favor — Tom was almost as much 
at home in the water as the proverbial duck. Although 
his life had been spent in New York, where ‘^swimming 
holes” and convenient brooks do not exist, yet he had 
managed to acquire the art very thoroughly. 

Waiting until the bark had arrived abreast the end of 
the island, he slipped off his shoes and coat, and then stole 
up the after companionway. A cuddy door opened out 
into a small space at the stern, where the wheel is situated. 

He knew that a sailor would be stationed there as steers- 
man, and that it would be even chances whether he could 
slip past him unseen. Cautiously opening the door, he 
peeped out. Luckily at that moment, the bark was put on 
the other tack. 

This maneuver absorbed the whole attention of the man 
at the wheel, and Tom crept by him unnoticed. Hastily 
crawling over the rail, he clutched a rope dangling from 
it, and a moment later was in the water. 

Diving down as far as he could, our hero slowly re- 
gained the surface, to find the Nighthawk some distance 
ahead. There were no signs of commotion on board the 
bark. His escape was evidently unknown. 

After recovering his breath, he struck out for the near- 
est point of land. The water was icy cold, and at first it 


The Escape. 229 

seemed to him that he would never be able to reach the 
shore. The vigorous movement of his arms lessened the 
numbness after a while. 

Finally, after a hard struggle, Tom crawled through the 
breakers, and fell exhausted on the sand, near the water’s 
edge. The freezing touch of the wind soon started him 
to his feet. 

Glancing seaward, he saw the bark ware around toward 
the camp. Happening to look in the other direction, he 
caught sight of another sail, just coming into view. 

At first it startled him, then he smiled, and said, 
heartily : 

“Ah ! Chester, old boy ; you are a little too late, but I am 
glad to see that you didn’t intend to give me up without an 
effort.” 

Tom would have remained to signal the yacht, but his 
wet clothes were too uncomfortable. Shivering with cold, 
he set off at a run, and presently arrived in the vicinity 
of the camp. 

Creeping from bush to bush, he gained a spot where he 
could see the tent and the space leading down to the beach. 
Standing near the water’s edge was Violet, with her hands 
clasped, and tears trickling down her fair cheeks. 

Next to her stood Mary Ann, with an old apron thrown 
over her head, and her body rocking back and forth, while 


230 


The Escape. 


a short distance away, was the professor, also displaying 
every evidence of grief. 

“The deuce ! What can be the matter ?” thought Tom, 
aghast. Then a light flashed over his mind. Out to sea, 
within plain view of the camp, was the Nighthawk, and 
swinging at her yardarm, was a grewsome figure. 

“I see now,” murmured the youth, a lump coming up in 
his throat. “They think it is I. By Jove! it’s — it’s a 
peculiar experience. Something like reading your own 
obituary. God bless them ! They — they must think a lot 
of me after all.” 

Tom wiped away a bit of moisture from his eyes, and 
then started out to announce his presence. As he passed 
the tent, he heard Mary Ann say : 

“It can’t be possible that thim villains has hung poor 
Tom. No, Oi won’t belave it at all. It don’t look loike 
him from here. He was that purty a b’y that Oi — ^Violet, 

dharlin’, don’t be cryin’ so. Look at me, Oi ain’t cry 

Boo ! hoo 1 hoo ! Tom, are ye dead an’ gone ? Is yer 

Murdher ! Ghosts ! Murdher I” 

At that moment, her eyes fell upon Tom, walking to- 
ward her with his hair dank and dripping, and his face 
white with the salt water. To her he was a veritable 
spirit, and she hopped sideways, and yelled like one de- 
mented. 

Violet turned at the sound, and fell in a swoon. Even 


231 


The Escape. 

the professor was startled, but he speedily recovered. 
Rushing forward, he grasped Tom’s hand, and shook it 
violently. Then throwing his arm around our hero’s 
shoulders, he exclaimed : 

“Thank Heaven for this mercy ! Bless my soul, 
Thomas, is it really you in the flesh? How did you es- 
cape from those ruffians ? Who is it they have hanged in 
that ferocious manner ?” 

These, and many more questions did the agitated old 
gentleman ask, all the while clinging to the youth, as if he 
expected him to take wings and fly. 

Mary Ann had fallen to the ground, where she lay, near 
Violet, groveling in the extremity of terror. Walking up 
to her, Tom attempted to convince the superstitious woman 
that he was not a ghost just yet. It took plenty of per- 
suasion and arguments, but he finally succeeded. 

After expressing her joy at length, she set about re- 
storing her mistress, while the young leader donned some 
dry clothing. By the time he had made himself more 
comfortable, Violet was waiting to see him. 

The meeting between them was heartfelt. Violet was 
overjoyed at his escape, and showed it in many ways. 
After explaining his recent adventures, Tom hurried to 
the end of the island and signaled the yacht, which at that 
moment was in full pursuit of the Nighthawk. 

“I wonder if old Flint and his precious companions 


232 The Escape. 

have discovered my escape yet ?” chuckled Tom. ^‘There 
will be great times on board when they do! Ah! they 
have seen my signal on the ExplorerT 

After firing his revolver, he had waved his coat, from a 
prominent point near the water’s edge. A moment later, 
a puff of white smoke came from the yacht’s quarter ; then 
he saw Chester dumb up the main shrouds and wave his 
cap. 

The craft was instantly put about and headed for the 
camp. The bark continued on her way to sea, under a 
full press of canvas. After reaching a distance of seven 
or eight miles from the island, she hove to. 

Tom returned to the camp, arriving there just as a 
cutter landed from the yacht. To say that Chester and 
Captain Brett were delighted to see him, would not be 
doing justice to their greeting. 

The former shook our hero’s hand so violently, that he 
was fain to ask for relief, and then the irrepressible youth 
actually embraced Mary Ann, to that woman’s huge 
amusement. 

Explanations were then in order, and when Tom had 
finished his description of events, young Gage told how he 
and the old skipper had made a solemn vow not to rest 
until revenge had been obtained to the fullest extent. 

“We saw that thing hanging at the yardarm, you 
know,” he added, “and we thought it was you. I tell you, 


The Escape. 


233 


there was a warm minute or two on the yacht when we 
first caught sight of that dummy. But what do you sup- 
pose was Flint’s idea in swinging it?” 

don’t know, unless he wanted to make you think I 
was dead. He would have killed me right enough, but 
the old skipper evidently persuaded him to wait a while.” 

'Terhaps it was Captain Scroggins’ idea to hold you for 
a ransom ?” suggested Violet. 

“That is probably a solution of the question,” replied 
Tom. “Well, they were fortunately foiled in their scheme. 
I’ll wager there will be trouble on board when they find 
that I have flown.” 

“If they would only fight among themselves and ex- 
terminate each other, like the Kilkenny cats, it would be a 
good job,” remarked Chester. 

A call to breakfast from Mary Ann cut short the con- 
versation, and all fell to at the bounteous supply of food 
with a will. The long swim had given Tom a ravenous 
appetite, and he did ample justice to the viands. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


THE PROFESSOR PREPARES A SURPRISE. 

“I did intend to search for that treasure to-day,” re- 
marked Tom, after breakfast, “but I guess v/e had better 
take a much-needed rest first. We can lie around and 
watch the bark until to-morrow morning, and then look 
over the island for the wonderful gold mine, or what- 
ever it is.” 

“The professor says such a thing is impossible,” said 
Chester, remembering his conversation with the scientist. 

“Says what is impossible ?” 

“Why, a gold mine, Thomas,” joined in Professor 
Pickel. “You may find a treasure left here by some one, 
but as to running across a mine — this is not that kind of 
an island.” 

Recalling the various mysterious illusions made at odd 
times by the old gentleman, Tom pressed him to explain 
his words. 

“You will know all in due course,” was the unsatisfac- 
tory reply. “It’s a little secret discovery of mine, and I 
want to retain it for a while.” 

“I’ll tell you what’s what,” spoke up Captain Brett. 
“This whole blamed island is peculiar, to say the least. 


The Professor Prepares a Surprise. 235 

What d’ye think the boys along Water Street, in New 
York, will say when I tell ’em that I saw a bit o’ land in 
the Antarctic Ocean, covered with palm trees ? A bloom- 
ing, tropical island in almost fifty degrees south. Why, 
they’ll think I have gone daft. Huh?” 

“Probably run you for president of the Prevaricators’ 
Club, eh ?” said Chester, with a sly wink at Mary Ann. 

“It’s himsilf as is noice enough to be Prisident av th’ 
United States, or — or Oirland,” said the cook, giving the 
old skpiper a languishing glance, to his evident alarm. 

“The Nighthawk is out there, following the example of 
her namesake,” remarked Tom, glancing toward the dis- 
tant vessel. “She is hovering around, waiting for another 
chance to swoop down on us.” 

“I hardly think they will trouble us to-day,” said Ches- 
ter. “The crew must need a rest as badly as we.” 

“They can’t have many men left,” ventured one of the 
prisoners Tom and Mary Ann had captured on the pre- 
vious day. He was an ill-favored seaman, named Bill 
Watkins, and had participated in the fight with his former 
companions. 

“I think I noticed six, counting Flint and the captain,” 
briefly replied Tom. 

“When be you going to look for that treasure?” asked 
the other prisoner, with a glance at his mate. 


“To-morrow.” 


236 The Professor Prepares a Surprise. 

Rising to his feet, after giving the above answer, Tom 
beckoned to Chester, and strolled down to the beach. Cap- 
tain Brett called out, as they were moving away, that he 
thought he would take a couple of men and do a little 
work on the yacht during the morning. 

“I want to give you a bit of warning about those two 
sailors from the bark,” said our hero to his chum, when 
they had passed out of hearing. “I don’t trust them a 
little bit. During the fight last night, I noticed that Wat- 
kins kept out of the way as much as possible, and didn’t 
do very much.” 

“They will bear watching, I guess. They are after that 
treasure, and if we don’t find any, I think they will try to 
rejoin their mates again.” 

“If you notice any sign of treachery on their part, shoot 
them down as you would a dog. To-night, when the 
guard is set, just see that they are detailed in separate 
watches.” 

Nothing of interest occurred during the day. The old 
skipper tinkered at the Explorer's rigging simply because 
he could not remain idle. Tom and his chum overhauled 
the stores, assisted by several of the sailors, and Violet and 
Mary Ann seized the opportunity to patch up their wear- 
ing apparel. 

The bark stood off and on within plain view, but did 
not approach near enough to cause alarm. The guards 


The Professor Prepares a Surprise. 237 

were set that night, but were permitted to patrol the island 
undisturbed by the enemy. 

On the following morning, shortly after breakfast, Tom 
made up a party, consisting of Chester, Professor Pickle, 
a couple of seamen and himself, to search for the alleged 
treasure. 

It must be confessed that he had very little faith in the 
story, but did not care to leave the island with the ques- 
tion unsettled. The professor was anxious to go, for 
certain reasons of his own. 

When the expedition was ready to start, Tom saw to his 
surprise that the scientist carried a ponderous volume 
under his arm. On being questioned concerning it, he 
refused to reply, other than by saying : 

“Never you mind about this book, Thomas. We’ll need 
it before we finish the search.” 

Seeing that it was useless to press the old gentleman, 
our hero gave the word to march. He was for striking 
directly into the interior, but the professor said, with a 
peculiar smile : 

“I think you had better allow me to lead. I may bring 
you to the treasure more speedily than you imagine.” 

Tom exchanged glances of wonder with Chester as 
they walked along at the heels of their new guide. 

“The old fellow knows something, and he wants to give 
us a surprise,” whispered Gage. “He has been making 


238 The Professor Prepares a Surprise. 

short excursions into the interior every little while. What 
a foxy old codger he is.” 

When the detail was made up, Tom had simply called 
out for two men to accompany them. He now saw that 
Bill Watkins had volunteered, together with one of the 
Explorer's seamen. 

His attention was attracted to the fact by the eager way 
in which Watkins followed the professor. It was plainly 
evident he was very anxious to sight the treasure among 
the first. 

Resolving to keep an eye on him, Tom sauntered along 
with the rest. The professor led the way in such a con- 
fident manner that it was easy to see he had traveled the 
path before. 

After covering a half mile, the guide turned sharply to 
the left, and advanced toward a break in the forest, 
through which a distant glimpse of the ocean could be 
obtained. 

Suddenly pausing. Professor Pickle produced the vol- 
ume he had been carrying, and, referring to a certain pas- 
sage, read it to himself with every appearance of satis- 
faction. 

Chester stole up to his side on tiptoe, and attempted to 
glance over his shoulder, but the scientist closed the vol- 
ume with a snap, and walked ahead at a rapid pace. 

The others rushed after him, and a moment later ar- 


The Professor Prepares a Surprise. 239 

rived at a little clearing, extending to the beach. Halting 
near the last fringe of palms, Professor Pickle pointed 
ahead, and exclaimed : 

“You see befoie you, not only the wonderful treasure, 
but a solution to the mystery of this most mysterious 
island 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 


AN ASTOUNDING ANNOUNCEMENT. 

The object that met the eyes of the little party when 
they ran forward at the professor’s bidding was not one 
calculated to increase their eagerness. 

Professor Pickle had exclaimed in a dramatic way : 

“You see before you not only the wonderful treasure, 
but a solution to the mystery of this most mysterious 
island.” 

What they saw were simply the outlines of an old wreck 
crumbling away on a sandy hummock, several hundred 
feet from the beach. Only a part of the bulwarks was 
standing, but a jagged timber here and there traced the 
lines of what must have been a small sailing vessel of 
great antiquity. 

“Great grief !” exclaimed Tom, pausing in astonishment. 
“What a peculiar old wreck. Where on earth did it come 
from?” 

“Go and examine it and I’ll tell you afterward,” replied 
the scientist, with a satisfied smile. “Surprised, eh? I 
thought you would be. But you will be more than aston- 
ished when I explain.” 

Accompanied by Chester and the two seamen, Tom ap- 


An Astounding Announcement. 241 

preached the crumbling remains of what had once been a 
stanch sea-going craft. Climbing over the decaying bul- 
warks, he saw at a glance that some one had been re- 
cently engaged in shoveling away the sand upon the after- 
deck. 

He glanced inquiringly at the professor. 

*‘Yes, it was I,” was the reply. '‘I have been here sev- 
eral times.” 

“What is it? What did you find?” asked Tom, rather 
impatiently. 

“I have found the treasure.” 

Bill Watkins, the ex-prisoner from the bark, pressed 
forward and listened eagerly. 

“Then there is a treasure?” replied Tom. “Where 
is it?” 

Professor Pickle smiled and silently led the way to 
what had evidently been the cabin of the queer-looking 
craft. Two-thirds of the roof had fallen in, but a corner 
near the after end still remained. 

Stooping under this, he drew forth an old iron-bound 
box. The wooden sides were still intact, but the lid had 
been wrenched off and thrown away. The contents were 
now covered with several palm leaves. 

Every member of the little party craned his neck over 
the case and impatiently watched the movements of the 
scientist as slowly removed the covering. 


242 An Astounding Announcement. 

“Diamonds/' breathed Chester. 

“No; gold, gold!” said Bill Watkins, with a gasp of 
excitement. 

The professor was enjoying their impatience as a cat 
would the terror of a captive mouse. At last he removed 
the palm leaves, exposing to view — a half dozen bars of 
dull gray metal and a score of yellowish coins ! 

Before he could be stopped, Watkins plunged forward 
on his knees and attempted to grasp the pieces of money. 
He was quickly seized and dragged back by Chester and 
Tom. 

“What is the matter with you?” demanded the latter, 
sternly. “Do you want to be put in irons again ?” 

The fellow hung his head with a sullen air, but did not 
vouchsafe a reply. 

Turning again to the treasure, Tom glanced at it rather 
contemptuously, and asked of the professor: 

“Is that all you have found ?” 

“It is all there was to be found,” answered Professor 
Pickle. “There is about four hundred dollars' worth of 
silver in those bars, and the coins are worth, on their face 
value, not more than three hundred and thirty dollars, or a 
total in all of seven hundred and thirty dollars in Amer- 
ican money. Are you disappointed ?” 

“Well, I should say we are,” spoke up Chester, blankly. 


An Astounding Announcement. 243 

‘‘From all the talk about it, I thought we would run across 
a hundred times that amount. Well, what a sell 

Tom, who had been eying Watkins, saw him turn away 
and move his lips as if muttering a whole volley of impre- 
cations. The fellow’s sordid nature had evidently re- 
ceived a severe shock. 

“Now it is time to explain how this ship came here and 
what it means to us,” said the scientist. 

“First, let us make sure of what little treasure there is,” 
interrupted Gage. 

Dumping the contents of the box upon the sand-covered 
deck, he wrapped up the bars and coins in a stout silk 
neckerchief. 

“Now go ahead with your yarn,” he said, in a matter-of- 
fact tone. 

The professor beckoned them outside of the ancient 
craft, and pointing to a name painted on the stern, asked 
them to read it. The letters were dim with age and decay, 
but Tom managed to discover that they were old Dutch 
characters. 

“You don’t understand Dutch, eh ?” remarked the scien- 
tist patronizingly. “Well, I will translate it for you. 
There are two words, and they mean, in English, 'The 
Speedaway* ” 

“The Speedaway” echoed Tom in surprise. “Why, 


244 An Astounding Announcement. 

you don’t mean to say that this is the wreck of that Dutch 
yacht which was the first vessel to approach ” 

“Yes, yes, you have hit it, Thomas. You have a splen- 
did memory for historical facts,” interrupted the professor, 
approvingly. “This is the very same craft, or what is left 
of it. Let me read to you an extract from the ‘Encyclo- 
paedia Britannica’ of a late date. I will turn to page 4856, 
of the eighth volume, and see what it says about the vessel 
whose bleached and time-worn bones lie before us.” 

With his companions watching him curiously, Professor 
Pickle referred to the book he had brought from camp, 
and read the following : 

“The first ship that ever approached the Antarctic Qrcle 
was one of a fleet which sailed from Rotterdam under the 
command of Jacob Mahu as admiral, in June, 1598. She 
was called the Speedaway, a yacht of one hundred and 
fifty tons, with Dick Gerritz as her captain. She was 
separated from the rest of the fleet in Magellan’s Strait, in 
1599, and was carried by tempestuous weather far to the 
south, discovering higher land in 64 degrees. This ap- 
pears to be the land afterward named the South Shetlands. 
Seven months later the Speedaway was cast on a tropical 
island off the coast of what is now Brazil. The crew es- 
caped in the boats and were picked up by a sister ship of 
the fleet. Several years afterward. Captain Gerritz sailed 


An Astounding Announcement. 245 

south again and attempted to find the island upon which 
his craft had been lost, but, strange to say, not a trace of 
the mysterious island could be discovered.” 

The scientist closed the book abruptly, and gazed at 
Tom with a peculiar smile. 

'‘Wonderful, wonderful!” ejaculated Chester. “Is it 
possible this can be the same ship?” 

Stepping closer to the name on the stern, Tom looked 
long and earnestly at the faded characters. Then turn- 
ing to Professor Pickle, he asked : 

“You say this is the Speedawayf 

“Undoubtedly.” 

“And is that description you have just read authentic?” 

“I firmly believe so.” 

“The Speedaway was totally wrecked on a tropical 
island off the coast of Brazil ?” 

“Yes.” 

The professor actually beamed under the questions. 

. Tom mused a moment, walked down to the edge of the 
surf, and then returned with a confident step. 

“Professor,” he said earnestly, “this is the most won- 
derful find of the century.” 

“Then you understand how it all came about?” 


“Yes.” 


^246 An Astounding Announcement. 


“How did this wreck get down here, six thousand miles 
from the place where it occurred?” 

“Easy enough, sir. The island brought it down. This 
island upon which we are now standing is floating at the 
mercy of the winds and currents !” 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 


TREACHERY. 

The first effect of Tom's remarkable statement was 
rather comical. Both Bill Watkins and the other sailor 
became as pale as their bronzed faces would permit, then 
turned and ran toward the palms. 

‘‘Hi, there!” shouted Tom; “where are you going? 
Come back here at once.” 

But his words only served to make the frightened men 
increase their speed, and they soon disappeared behind the 
nearest fringe of trees. 

“The fools ! What are they afraid of, I wonder ?” 

“They think the island is going about on the other tack, 
I suppose, and that it might capsize under a lee helm,” 
grinned Chester. 

Then he added, seriously : 

“Chum, is it possible that this is a floating island? I 
can hardly believe it.” 

“It is so, nevertheless. We have indisputable proofs of 
the fact in the presence of this wreck. It must be as Pro- 
fessor Pickle says. He has deciphered the name on the 
stern, the very appearance of the craft denotes that it has 


248 Treachery. 

been here for almost three centuries, and then I noticed 
that the coins are of a date prior to 1599.” 

‘‘Wonderful, wonderful!” was all Gage could say in 
reply. 

“Now you can understand why I said it would be im- 
possible to find gold mines here,” said the scientist, smil- 
ing. “The crust of this remarkable island cannot be very 
thick, and if you were to sink a shaft, you would fall 
through the bottom before digging many feet.” 

“It explains the salty taste of the water you found in 
that hole, eh?” 

“Yes ; that was sea water.” 

“Captain Scroggins must have landed somewhere near 
this wreck, and on running across a few pieces of money, 
he thought there were more behind it, I suppose,” re- 
marked Chester. 

“From what I can understand,” replied Tom, “the bold 
skipper of the Nighthawk was frightened away by a sud- 
den gale before he could investigate the wreck, which re- 
minds me that we must sail from this place as soon as 
possible. This is the region of violent storms, and we 
must not run any chances of losing the yacht, now that we 
have saved her from the berg.” 

“Professor, how do you suppose the Speedaway hap- 
pened to be carrying these bars of silver?” asked Gage, as 
they prepared to return to the camp. 


Treachery. 249 

'‘It was a common form of conveying treasure in those 
days. Captain Gerritz may have thought it more con- 
venient to have his valuables in that shape, or, again, he 
may have obtained the bars from the natives. They cer- 
tainly look crude enough for that.” 

“Then all this stuff is only worth a paltry seven hundred 
and odd dollars, eh?” continued Chester, in an aggrieved 
voice. 

“That is all.” 

“Humph ! no wonder Bill Watkins was disappointed.” 

“We must keep an eye on that individual and his mate,” 
remarked Tom. “I have an idea their loyal feeling to- 
ward us was mainly stimulated by the possibility of se- 
curing a generous slice of the treasure.” 

Still conversing over the wonderful wreck and its silent 
tale of centuries past and gone, the little party made their 
way back toward the camp. 

Suddenly, while passing through a clearing not far from 
the beach, the sharp, spiteful report of a rifle came to their 
ears. It was immediately followed by another, and then 
several shots in succession rang out. 

“Great grief ! what is that ?” cried Tom, glancing with 
startled eyes at his companions. 

“Trouble in camp,” briefly replied Chester. 

Still carrying the treasure, he started off at a run, closely 
followed by the others. 


250 Treachery. 

“Maybe the bark has returned,” gasped Professor 
Pickle, breathing heavily from the unwonted exertion. 

Tom did not reply, but he grimly cocked his revolver, 
as he sped over the ground at Chester’s side. A few mo- 
ments later they emerged from the palm forest, and found 
the camp in a state of intense excitement. 

Men were running back and forth flourishing guns and 
revolvers; down at the edge of the beach stood Captain 
Brett up to his knees in water, and firing point-blank at 
the yacht, while on the deck of the latter were three men 
busily hoisting sail. 

“Jumping ginger !” shouted Chester. “They are trying 
to run away with the Explorer, 

Tom recognized the two prisoners near the railing, and 
felt that his chum was right. 

Darting toward Mary Ann, who was hurling invectives 
after the traitors, he asked, hastily : 

“What is the matter ? How did this happen ?” 

“Ah, Tom, is that ye? Ye’re jusht in toime to see us 
abandoned by thim villains. They do be runnin’ away 
wid yer purty boat. Stop ’em, or we’ll all perish on this 
divil’s own spot.” 

“The captain had brought the men ashore for dinner, 
all except two, who were left to watch the Explorer,” rap- 
idly explained Violet, hurrying up at that juncture. “We 
were preparing the meal, when suddenly two sailors 


Treachery. 251 

rushed from the forest and jumped into the cutter. Be- 
fore they could be stopped, they had pulled away from the 
beach. Then Captain Brett saw their object, and he fired 
at them, but without effect.” 

‘‘Confound them! they have played us a scurvy trick,” 
exclaimed the young leader. “They must be stopped in 
some way, or well be abandoned on this miserable island. 
There comes the Nighthawk now. If those villains get 
away they will join her.” 

It was indeed a sore predicament in which the party now 
found themselves. Both cutters were alongside the yacht, 
and there was absolutely no means of pursuing the 
traitors. 

Tom felt like springing into the sea and swimming out 
to th^ Explorer, but he speedily gave up the idea. On 
board the yacht, the sailors were hard at work hoisting 
the mainsail. 

Chester had joined the old skipper at the edge of the 
surf, and was now endeavoring to hit one of the men with 
a bullet from his rifle. The distance was too great for an 
accurate aim, however. 

“Oi would give tin years av me loife if Oi could gfit wan 
av thim spalpanes be th’ neck,” exclaimed the Irishwoman 
vindictively. “Worra! worra! this do be a sad day for 
us.” 

Seeing the impotency of their efforts, Gage and Captain 


Treachery. 


252 

Brett ceased firing, and joined Tom. The old skipper’s 
face was convulsed with rage, and he uttered a string of 
strange oaths in such forceful style that Mary Ann gazed 
at him admiringly. 

“We are dished this time, sure,” remarked Chester, 
shaking his fist at the recreant crew on board the yacht. 

“You are right,” replied Tom, gloomily. “Those fel- 
lows will tell Flint and Scroggins about the treasure, and 
they will, no doubt, return to the United States, leaving 
us here on this floating island.” 

“Floating island?” echoed Violet in surprise. 

The youth briefly explained Professor Pickle’s wonder- 
ful discovery, at the same time assuring his listeners that 
to all intent they were just as safe as if upon an island 
having the bottom of the sea as its foundation. 

“What we have reason to be alarmed at,” he continued 
gravely, “is the great danger of our being left here with 
but little water. We have enough provisions to last for 
several months, if judiciously used, but unfortunately most 
of the water is on the Explorer” 

“Don’t vessels sometimes pass near here ?” asked Violet. 

“No ma’am, it is entirely outen the beaten track,” re- 
plied the old skipper. “Pve hearn tell of whalers being 
blown out o’ their course in this direction, but that’s cer- 
tainly a poor chance to depend on.” 

“Well, we must hope for the 


Treachery. 253 

Violet was suddenly interrupted by a joyful shout from 
Chester, who stood pointing, in an ecstacy of delight, to- 
ward the yacht. 

“Hurrah !” he exclaimed. “They have dropped one of 
the cutters.” 


CHAPTER XXXV. 


A LUCKLESS MISHAP. 

It was as Gage had said. One of the cutters towing 
astern of the Explorer, which was now under way, had 
become detached from the painter, and now floated several 
yards in the rear of the yacht. 

As yet the sailors on board had evidently not noticed it, 
and they continued to make sail in blissful ignorance of 
the accident. It was a trying moment for the watchers 
on the beach. 

Here was a chance opportunely offered for them to gain 
the object of their heartfelt desires — a craft of any size. 
Would the mishap be discovered? 

“I can’t stand this any longer,” hoarsely muttered Tom, 
throwing off his outer coat. 

“What are you going to do?” demanded Chester, hur- 
riedly. 

“Swim out and secure the cutter,” was the brief reply. 

“Then I am with you, chum !” 

“You will both perish with the cold,” objected Violet. 
“Don’t risk your life. Let us remain together, and trust 
to some vessel passing this way. Please don’t go, Tom.” 

“If them fellers don’t see the cutter and pick her up, it’ll 


A Luckless Miskap. 255 

drift ashore in due time,” said Captain Brett, confidently. 
“Really, it’s too much risk to try to swim out there. It 
must be a mile, anyway.” 

“No ; I must do it,” replied Tom, firmly, completing his 
preparations. “Everything depends on our securing the 
cutter. Those scoundrels are liable to see it at any mo- 
ment; then they will sail back for it. If we get the boat, 
some of us can try to make Cape Town, for the purpose of 
obtaining help.” 

“Come on, Tom,” cried Chester, who was also in readi- 
ness for the perilous attempt. “We haven’t any time to 
lose.” 

“You had better stay, chum ; one is enough.” 

“Not much. I am going with you, and you can’t 
help it.” 

While speaking, the courageous youth waded into the 
surf, and was soon breasting the waves. With a last look 
at Violet, our hero followed his example, and the twain 
struck out sturdily for the drifting cutter. 

Slowly, but with unceasing efforts, they swam, keeping 
a constant eye on the yacht. It was a severe trial of 
strength and endurance, but both were enured to hard- 
ships by this time. 

Captain Brett and his companions ashore watched the 
brave lads with overwhelming anxiety. Suddenly, Mary 


2s6 a Luckless Mishap. 

Ann saw a commotion on the Explorer, and she drew the 
old skipper^s attention to it. 

‘‘Groaning duffers !” shouted the latter, in dismay. 
“Them villains have discovered the loss of the cutter. 
Confound the luck! Why couldn’t they have kept their 
blasted peepers ahead ?” 

What the Irishwoman beheld was a man near the stern, 
where he stood gesticulating to his mates, and pointing 
with one hand toward the cutter, bobbing up and down 
midway between the yacht and the island. 

A moment later, the Explorer was brought about on the 
other tack, and then held stiff against the edge of the wind. 

“Hoorra ! she’ll have to ware again before she can make 
it I” roared the old skipper, joyfully. “Now, if them boys 
git thar first, they can give a good account of theirselves. 
It’s blamed lucky Tom took his revolver in the rubber bag. 
Oh, he’s a wise lad.” 

In the meantime, our hero and his chum had also noticed 
the putting about of the yacht. They knew what it in- 
dicated, and both struck out with a grim determination to 
reach the drifting boat first, or die in the attempt. 

No time was lost in conversation. They exchanged 
glances, and each read the resolution written in each 
other’s face. The first numbing sensation of cold had now 
disappeared, but there still remained the diead possibility 


A Luckless Mishap. 257 

of a sudden cramp, and they watched carefully for any un- 
toward signs. 

The Explorer was now heading as near for the cutter as 
the wind would permit. A continuation on that tack 
would bring her within three hundred yards. Would they 
ware again, or use the remaining boat? 

Tom remembered, with a thankful heart, that not a 
single weapon had been left on board. If it came to a 
struggle, he had the advantage in possessing a revolver, 
effectually protected from the water. 

Nearer and nearer drew the contestants in the novel 
race. To the anxious spectators on the island, the two 
minute spots on the broad expanse of sea representing 
Tom and Chester, were woefully distant from the goal. 

The excitement was intense. Old Brett and the pro 
fessor stood as if transfixed, while Mary Ann breathed 
over an incoherent offer of innumerable candles to some 
patron saint. 

Violet could hardly bear to watch the race. At last she 
turned away, and hid her face, bidding her maid tell her 
of the progress of events. At last the yacht reached a 
point parallel with the cutter. Tom and his chum were 
still some distance away. 

The Explorer was suddenly hove to, and a couple of 
men dropped into the other boat. They hastily shipped 


f 


258 A Luckless Mishap. 

the oars, and pulled frantically toward the drifting craft. 
It was now nip and tuck of a verity. 

“They are almost there ! Tom is ahead !” screeched 
Captain Brett, excitedly waving his hands. 

“Whoop !” shouted Mary Ann. “Th’ b’ys are going to 
win. Tom is near touching the boat.” 

“Them blamed sharks are trying to cut him off. Ah! 
the scoundrel struck at Chester with his oar, and — that’s 
it, Tom ! Hurrah ! hurrah 1 he’s in the cutter !” 

Captain Brett’s enthusiastic cheers so excited the Irish- 
woman that she unconsciously threw one arm around his 
shoulder, but the old skipper gave her an indignant shove, 
and then fairly danced up and down the beach in an ex- 
cess of joy. 

For Tom had won the race. Reaching the drifting prize 
just as the other cutter dashed up, he made a final effort, 
and scrambled over the gunwale. It was then but the 
work of a moment to snatch the revolver from its water- 
proof envelope and level it at the traitors. 

The latter were furious at their defeat, but they wisely 
declined to give battle. Seeing the weapon in Tom’s 
hand, they turned and pulled away for dear life. 

At that juncture, the former’s attention was claimed by 
Chester, who was so much exhausted that he could not 
climb into the boat. Hastily assisting him aboard, Tom 
fired a shot after the retreating sailors, but missed them. 


259 


A Luckless Miskap. 

“We must follow them and try to recapture the yacht,” 
he cried. “I will reserve the rest of the cartridges until 
we get nearer.” 

“Whew ! I am almost tuckered out,” gasped young 
Gage. “But I guess I can row a little. We mustn’t miss 
this chance, if we lose a leg.” 

“I think Flint and his gang are aware that something 
has happened,” said Tom, pointing toward the distant 
bark. “See, they are making all sail.” 

“Yes, and they are waring around in this direction.” 

‘We will have to make the capture before the Night- 
hawk reaches the yacht. We wouldn’t last as long as a 
frost in June with her crew.” 

The other cutter had gained a considerable start before 
Tom and his companion began the chase, and they were 
now halfway to the Explorer. Two men still remained 
on board. They were busy bringing the craft around, so 
as to meet their boat. 

Tom had seen, with surprise and indignation, that two 
of his own sailors had gone over to the enemy, and he re- 
solved to have a bitter reckoning with the traitors if he 
should ever get them in his power again. 

“They are four men to a couple of boys, but this little 
joker evens up matters somewhat,” he said to Chester, in- 


26 o a Luckless Mishap. 

dicating his revolver. ‘‘If we only get near enough to use 
it, we will stand some 

Crack ! went his oar at that moment, and he reeled back 
against Chester, knocking that lad into the bottom of the 


cutter. 


CHAPTER XXXVL 


THE YACHT RECAPTURED. 

The breaking of his oar at such a critical moment almost 
caused Tom to cry with vexation and disappointment. 
The suddenness of the catastrophe had sent him reeling 
against Gage, the shock throwing the latter upon his back 
in the bottom of the cutter. 

Both recovered their former positions at once. Toss- 
ing the useless piece of wood overboard, Tom drew his 
revolver, and said, grimly : 

''WeVe got to risk it now. Just steady the boat while 
I take aim. Our only chance is to hit one of those 
scoundrels.’" 

It was a situation to try the hand of a better marksman 
than our hero. The cutter was wobbling about from wave 
to wave in such a manner that a sure aim was impossible. 

“It’s trusting to luck,” said Chester, gravely. “You 
have six shots left. I would fire five, and reserve one in 
case they should turn on us.” 

Crouching near the middle, Tom rested the barrel of 
the weapon upon his left arm, and, after a brief pause, 
pulled the trigger. He had aimed at the sailor in the after 
part of the boat. 


262 The Yacht Recaptured. 

The sharp report of the pistol was instantly followed by 
a cry of agony. The man spun around, and fell prostrate 
across the gunwale, the force of his fall almost capsizing 
the craft. 

"‘By cricky! you have hit him!” cried Chester. “That 
was a splendid shot.” 

Suddenly, to the surprise of both, the man staggered to 
his feet, and attempted to seize the oar he had dropped. 
His mate had ceased rowing for the moment, but he now 
commenced paddling toward the oncoming yacht. 

“I must have barely grazed him,” said Tom. “It has 
had some effect, though. Row away Chester; cover as 
much space as you can while I try to frighten them.” 

Gage began rowing, using his oar on alternate sides, 
and Tom shouted to the sailors to stop or he would fire 
again. For the purpose of emphasizing his command, he 
stood up, and pretended to take a careful aim. 

The maneuver had immediate effect. Evidently be- 
lieving that he could shoot them without any trouble, the 
sailors held up their hands, as a token of surrender. 

A faint cheer came to the lad’s ears from shore. It was 
evident the party on the distant beach were watching their 
progress with anxious eyes. A voice, hoarse with passion, 
came from the yacht : 

“Come on, ye blamed fools!” it said. “Don’t let ’em 


The Yacht Recaptured. 263 

catch ye. Wot air ye afraid of? He can^t hit ye at that 
distance.” 

But the men in the cutter had had a plentiful experi- 
ence. What was really a chance shot, seemed to them 
the effort of an expert marksman, and they had no liking 
for further risk. 

Under Chester’s skillful guidance, the one-oared cutter 
slowly approached the one containing the surrendering 
sailors. It was tedious work propelling the heavy craft, 
but the distance was finally covered. 

“Now, you men,” said Tom, flourishing his revolver, 
as a token of his authority, “I want you to understand that 
I have the drop on you, and if my orders are not obeyed on 
the instant there will be trouble.” 

The wounded fellow — ^whom Tom now recognized as 
Watkins’ mate — made a gesture of assent with such 
alacrity that Chester was compelled to smile. It was 
plainly evident he did not desire any more proof of our 
hero’s skill with a pistol. 

f 

“Toss me one of those spare oars,” commanded Tom. 

He was obeyed instantly. 

“Now, row back to the yacht as quickly as you can. 
Chester, you follow close behind them, while I keep 
watch.” 

A few moments later, both boats were alongside the 
Explorer, The young leader promptly climbed over the 


264 The Yacht Recaptured. 

gangway. He found Bill Watkins and the other sailor 
sullenly awaiting him near the mainmast. 

They would have tried to escape if they could have 
handled the craft. That an attempt had been made, was 
proven by the appearance of the running rigging. 

Not stopping to berate them for their treachery, Tom 
sternly bade them make sail for the island. Gage was sta- 
tioned at the wheel, and the wounded sailor — who had 
only received a slight scratch on his cranium — placed at 
the main tack. 

The bark was still bowling down before the wind, and 
had now reached a distance of not more than a mile from 
the yacht. Tom had great confidence in the sailing quali- 
ties of his craft, and felt but little alarm. 

After getting every possible inch of sail spread, he 
joined Gage. The young steersman was stamping around 
the wheel in an eflPort to counteract the extreme cold, 
which had been greatly augmented by his wet clothes. 

“Jump down into the cabin and see if you can’t find a 
change,” suggested Tom. “I’ll steer while you are gone. 
Look up something for me also. I have just begun to feel 
the weather myself.” 

Chester succeeded in running across a couple of suits 
and heavy coats. After they donned them, each felt far 
more comfortable. It was only the sturdy constitution of 


The Yacht Recaptured. 265 

the boys that permitted them to pass through such an ex- 
posure without serious results. 

The superior speed of the yacht now became manifest. 
She soon increased the space between her and the bark, 
and continued to gain steadily. The four seamen speedily 
observed it, and their mutterings of disappointment were 
heard by Tom and his chum. 

‘T guess they rather depended upon the Nighthawk” 
said the former, with a grim smile. “In all probability, 
they would not have surrendered so easily otherwise.’' 

“What is your plan? To keep on sailing around the 
island?” 

“No, we’ll run up within easy gun-shot of the beach, 
and then you can take two of the men and row ashore for 
reinforcements and weapons.” 

“What then? Are you going to chase the bark if she 
comes very near?” 

“No, siree!” replied Tom, emphatically. “I have had 
enough of fighting for a while, and I don’t propose to look 
for any more. If they leave us alone, we will embark, all 
hands and the stores, and start for Cape Town this very 
day.” 

“That suits me.” 

“There isn’t any use remaining here a day longer. The 
professor has succeeded in securing a specimen of his 


266 The Yacht Recaptured. 

onion ; we have discovered the treasure,” here Tom smiled, 
*^and the yacht is quite ready to make the trip.” 

‘T would like to take that old wreck along and exhibit 
in New York. Til bet a dog we could charge a dollar a 
head admission,” said Chester, practically. ‘'J^st fancy 
the romantic story that could be given the newspapers as 
an advertisement.” 

“The main reason why I wish to leave these latitudes is 
because of Violet. She has borne up nobly, but I don't 
fancy she is very comfortable,” 

“Nor Mary Ann,” added Gage, with a sly grin. “That 
poor woman is also delicate and ” 

But Tom had hurried forward to escape his chaffing. 
Meanwhile, the yacht had been steadily drawing nearer 
the island. On the beach were still gathered Captain Brett 
and the rest. They had cheered themselves into a state of 
hoarseness, and now stood awaiting the coming of the re- 
captured craft. 

The bark had not changed her course, a fact Tom 
viewed with surprise. She was dropping astern so ob- 
viously that he had thought those on board would give up 
the pursuit. 

“I am afraid they intend to give us battle, anyway,” he 
said to Gage. 

“It certainly looks like it. I guess they are desperate 


J.11C xiiijiiL ivcL’iipLureu. 


now, and will risk anything to get that treasure, which, 
you know, they still think is on the island. 

Tom's attention was suddenly called to the weather by 
a heavy gust of wind, which sent the Explorer heeling 
over to leeward. Glancing up, he saw that the sky had be- 
come overcast from horizon to horizon. A peculiar bank 
of somber clouds toward the south, recalled to him Captain 
Brett's warning about the danger of sudden squalls. 

'‘We are going to have a storm, and that before long," 
said Gage. “Why, the sky was clear, and the sea almost 
as calm as a mill-pond when we swam out to the cutter." 

“I hope it holds off until we get everything aboard," re- 
plied Tom, apprehensively. “We will soon be near enough 
for you to take the cutters ashore. Don't waste any time 
in explaining matters, but tell Brett to send off Violet and 
Mary Ann at once. Have him load both boats with as 
many stores as he can pile in. We may not be able to 
make more than one trip." 

“One good thing. The water is deep clear up to the 
land, so we won't be compelled to row very far." 

Mentally spanning the distance between the bark and 
the yacht, Tom concluded that he would have at least half 
an hour before Flint and his crew could arrive within 
rifle shot. 

This was cheering, as he intended to get away from the 
island before meeting the Nighthazvk, and, if possible, 


268 


The Yacht Recaptured. 


avoid her altogether. The wind still continued to increase, 
but it had shifted slightly, and was now blowing from the 
southeast. 

This, fortunately, made a breakwater of the island, and 
checked the force of the waves j ust where the cutters were 
to land. After sailing within three hundred yards of the 
beach, the yacht was hove to. Chester lost but little time 
in manning a boat. With his sailors, he sprang into one 
and started ashore, towing the other. 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 


THE WRECK OF THE BARK. 

It was not long before the little stretch of beach was the 
scene of the most intense activity. Captain Brett instantly 
set the men to work loading the cutters, and within fifteen 
minutes, they were making the return trip to the yacht. 

Tom only greeted Violet with a brief word. He then 
turned to and assisted in hoisting the stores on board. 
Mary Ann was worth two men in this work, and even the 
professor displayed a commendable activity. 

His first duty, however, was to carefully store away a 
small round bundle, evidently containing his precious 
specimen. Only two trips were found necessary, and 
within the half hour, sail was again being made on the 
yacht. 

It was high time. The Nighthawk had arrived within 
easy pistol shot when the Explorer had gained steerage- 
way. Arranged along her after rail were five or six men, 
brandishing rifles and revolvers. Foremost in the array 
of villainous faces, was that of Nicholas Flint. 

Next to him stood Rufus Kane, and still farther aft was 
the sturdy figure of Captain Scroggins. Chester leisurely 
surveyed them through a powerful glass. 


270 The Wreck of the Bark. 

“Humph ! a fine collection of mugs for the rogues’ gal- 
lery,” he said. 

“They evidently mean business,” replied the old skipper. 
“If they want a fight we Look out !” 

He had barely uttered the warning, when a rattle of 
musketry came from the bark. The leaden messengers of 
destruction whizzed through the rigging, and spent their 
force in the distance, without harming any one. 

“Captain Brett, have some of the men mount the repeat- 
ing rifle near the wheel,” quietly directed Tom. “If mat- 
ters get too warm, we’ll give them a dose of their own 
medicine. Don’t fire until I give the word.” 

Violet and Mary Ann had been sent below immediately 
on boarding the Explorer. The four mutineers were also 
placed out of harm’s reach, and, for the time being, heavily 
ironed. 

Knowing that the yacht’s best work could be obtained 
with the wind off the quarter, the old skipper accordingly 
gave a course of due north, and then had every stitch of 
canvas flattened and soaked with water. 

After the first volley, Flint and his companions reserved 
their fire, and turned their attention to the bark. Sail after 
sail was spread, until the old craft seemed a mass of snowy 
canvas. 

“There he goes setting his royals and the flying-jib,” 
said Captain Brett. “He must be crazy spreading that 


The Wreck of the Bark. 


271 

light stuff in the face of a gale. The wind is doubling its 
strength every blessed moment, and if it keeps on we’ll 
have a sixty-knotter afore night.’' 

“ni tell you what he is trying to do,” suddenly spoke 
up Chester. “He evidently wants to head us off near the 
end of the island and run us down.” 

The youth’s reasoning was plausible. The positions of 
the two vessels were now as follows: The yacht was 
skirting the shore, with an offing of not more than half a 
mile, and with at l6ast three miles before her to the end of 
the island, while the bark was standing in direct for the 
point of land which the Explorer would have to pass be- 
fore clearing the island. 

As Chester had said, it was evidently their intention to 
intercept the yacht, either for the purpose of ramming it, 
or to again draw within range. 

“It shows how desperate they have become,” said Tom. 
“It is not a question of capturing us now, but to strike a 
last blow. It is a pity the sea is so high, as I am of a 
mind to try a shot from the repeater. Whew ! look how 
black it is getting to windward !” 

“We are going to catch it, sure,” gravely replied the 
old skipper. “It’ll be blowing your hair off before many 
hours. I guess we had better shorten sail, Tom. Them 
sticks is not over strong, and they’ll carry away on us if 
we don’t watch out.” 


272 


The Wreck of the Bark. 


Even as he spoke, a small staysail set up forward, split, 
with a loud report, and in an instant the spread of canvas 
was a mass of fluttering ribbons. Captain Brett sprang 
forward, and his stentorian voice was soon heard order- 
ing the men to shorten sail. 

At almost the same instant, the Nighthawk’s fore-royal, 
carried away, and torn clean from the fastenings, disap- 
peared in the gathering gloom to leeward like a ghost of 
the storm. 

It was a warning that Captain Scroggins could not 
neglect. Tom and Chester saw him gesticulate to his 
crew, and a moment later the topgallant sails were being 
furled and reefs taken in the courses. 

It was now about three o’clock. The sun had entirely 
disappeared — buried in a somber mass of black clouds— 
and the gloom deepened to such an extent that it was 
barely possible to distinguish the land. 

The wind was increasing steadily. It whistled through 
the tautened rigging until each rope stood like a rigid bar 
of steel, and whipped the fraying ends of the wrecked 
staysail about until it was perilous to approach the fore- 
castle. 

A peculiar moaning crept through the air — a weird 
sound, as of jungle beasts scenting danger. It grew apace, 
and at last developed into a rear of awful intensity. 

It was the song of the living gale, and when the old 


The Wreck of the Bark. 273 

skipper hearkened to it, be cast many anxious glances at 
the small expanse of canvas still remaining. 

“We’ll have to take in a few more rags,” he bellowed 
into Tom’s ear. 

“Do as you think best,” replied that youth, wisely sur- 
rendering his authority to the experienced mariner. 

A double reef was taken in the mainsail, and the fore- 
sail furled entirely. This left only the former and a nar- 
row point of staysail still spread. It was ample to send the 
stanch yacht almost upon her beam ends with every suc- 
ceeding blast of wind. 

The bark was not long in following the example, but 
she still continued in pursuit. The two vessels were now 
drawing very close together. Barely five hundred yards 
separated them, and it was an equal distance to the end of 
the island. 

The condition of affairs had been resolved into a thrill- 
ing race. If the yacht gained the point of land first, she 
could still round it with a free sheet, but if the Nighthawk 
reached it at the same moment, or before, the danger of a 
disastrous collision would be extreme. 

Tom and his companions now saw that such a culmina- 
tion was Flint’s idea. 

“It must be avoided at any cost,” exclaimed the young 
leader, eying the bark’s advance with great apprehension. 
“If that big hulk of a vessel should strike the Explorer, 


The Wreck of the Bark. 


274 

we would be cut down in an instant. Captain Brett, we 
must risk more sail.” 

“We are doing pretty well, as it is,” remarked that 
mariner, with a wave of his hand toward the broad wake. 
“It’ll take a few minutes to set the canvas, and by that 
time we will have reached the point.” 

“Or the Nighthawk will have reached us,” spoke up 
Chester. “By George! she is drawing mighty near. I 
can almost read her name abaft the figure-head.” 

As matters stood, it was impossible for the yacht to tack. 
Such a maneuver would bring her directly in front of the 
bark. The sole course was to stand on toward the end of 
the island, and trust to luck. 

Gathered on the forecastle head of the Nighthawk was 
a group of men, composed of Nicholas Flint, Rufus Kane 
and Captain Scroggins. All three bore rifles, with the 
muzzles pointing toward the yacht. They were evidently 
not conversing, but stood silent and alert, awaiting a 
chance to fire. 

The terrible pitching of both craft rendered an aim 
almost impossible. Still the trio were prepared for an at- 
tempt to discharge a volley of bullets beyond a doubt. 

Tom smiled grimly when he saw them. He realized 
that he was to be the target, but he had no fear of the re- 
sult. It was the close proximity of the bark that he 
dreaded. 


The Wreck of the Bark. 


275 


Both vessels were now making heavy weather of it. 
The waves had formed into long curling rollers, with a 
sweep to them that sent each craft surging onward with 
irresistible force. The distance between them was rapidly 
narrowing. 

Tom clinched his hands, and gazed ahead to where the 
point of land could be dimly seen, three hundred yards 
away. Nearer drew the bark. A yell of exultation came 
from her crew. Chester and several of the sailors sent 
back a ringing cheer of defiance. 

"*She’s going to catch us, certain,*’ gasped Captain Brett, 
his face paling under its coating of bronze. “She’ll hit us 
if we don’t ” 

Stopping in the middle of his sentence, he sprang to the 
wheel, and altered the course half a point. The yacht was 
now aiming directly for the extreme point of land. If no 
submarine edge extended out, a few yards could thus be 
saved without danger. It was a terrible risk. 

Suddenly, a hoarse shout came from the forecastle of 
the bark — an evil cry of triumph. Tom turned, and saw 
the bowsprit of the Nighthamk within a biscuit throw. 
Another moment and the towering hull would crash upon 
them. Nearer, and yet nearer it came. Two hundred feet, 
one hundred, fifty — and then, with an inarticulate cry. 
Captain Brett threw himself upon the wheel, and sent it 
spinning from port to starboard. 


276 The Wreck of the Bark. 

The sorely buffeted yacht reeled, then swung around be- 
fore the wind just as the Nighthawk crashed past her, car- 
rying away the bowsprit, with all its attending stays. 

Then, just as Chester turned to his chum with a shout 
of congratulation, a shot rang out from the bark’s fore- 
castle, and Tom staggered back against the cabin-hatch, 
and dropped, limp and motionless, to the deck. 

While all stood appalled at the sudden catastrophe, a 
thunderous crash sounded, and, in the midst of the white 
spume cast up by the breakers, the rending timbers of the 
Nighthawk were seen as she surged ashore — a total 
wreck ! 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 


CONCLUSION. 

Even in that moment of terrible danger, and with Tom 
shot down almost at his feet, Captain Brett — sturdy old 
mariner that he was — did not release his grip on the wheel. 

It was this fact only that saved the yacht, and kept her 
from sharing the fate of the wrecked bark. Twenty sec- 
onds after the Nighthawk had passed to her doom, the 
Explorer rounded the point of land, and swept on into 
comparative safety. 

By this time, a darkness as of night set in, and the is- 
land, with its twin wrecks — two centuries apart — faded 
out of sight astern, never more to be seen by those on 
board the yacht. 

When Chester recovered from his horror and stupefac- 
tion, he ran to Tom’s side, and made a hasty examination 
of the wounded youth. He found, to his great relief, that 
he was still breathing. Calling aid, he had him conveyed 
down to the cabin. 

Violet and Mary Ann were crouched in one corner, 
pallid with terror, but when they saw the unconscious 
young leader, they instantly set to work, and speedily 
brought him to his senses, 


278 Conclusion. 

Professor Pickle — who had taken a degree in medicine 
at some remote period of his existence — searched for the 
wound, and found a small round hole in Tom’s right 
shoulder. Utilizing a forcep from the medicine case, he 
succeeded in extracting the bullet. 

The place was then properly bandaged, and a few mo- 
ments later our hero found himself lying weak and ex- 
hausted in his stateroom, a very ill patient. Violet’s grief 
was almost overwhelming, and, as for Mary Ann — she 
made the cabin ring with her “worras !” and '^ochones !” 

Presently, Captain Brett came down and joined the 
chorus of regrets and imprecations, and finally, the pro- 
fessor was compelled to pack them oif out of hearing, for 
the welfare of his patient. 

“Poor Tom !” sighed Chester, when they had reached 
the upper deck. “I hope he is not badly wounded.” 

“He is hit in a mighty serious place,” replied the old 
skipper, in a similar tone. “I saw many a soldier and 
sailor in the late onpleasantness go to Davy Jones’ locker 
from the same injury. D’ye see, a bit of the cloth must 
have gone in with the bullet, and that’s liable to cause a 
poisoning.” 

“Don’t talk like that, confound you!” exclaimed his 
companion. “You are a regular Job’s comforter. I don’t 
believe — at least, I hope and pray that Tom will get well. 
I — I don’t want to think otherwise.” 


Conclusion. 


279 


In the course of an hour, word was brought up by Mary 
Ann that Tom had gone to sleep and was apparently 
slightly better. This official bulletin was received with 
every manifestation of joy by our hero’s stanch friends. 

Captain Brett was so encouraged that he set about re- 
pairing the damage to the forward part of the yacht. Be- 
fore morning, the gale showed signs of abating, and by 
daylight the wind and sea had subsided considerably. 

Chester passed a sleepless night, and begged his way 
into Tom’s stateroom just as the latter awoke. Violet and 
Mary Ann were also present to greet the invalid, under 
penalty that they would be driven out on the first sign of 
excitement. 

As yet, Tom had not been told of the Nighthawk's fate, 
and it was left to Gage to acquaint him of the wreck. 
Despite the enmity shown him by his former guardian 
and others, Tom was greatly shocked. 

“You say that she struck the beach directly after I was 
shot ?” he asked, feebly. 

“Yes, I saw her masts go by the board, and then a whole 
wall of water break over the hull. She didn’t last a min- 
ute, and the scoundrel that wounded you hadn’t very long 
to enjoy his triumph.” 

“An’ glad Oi wuz to hear that the dhirty rogues got 
their just dues at last !” chimed in Mary Ann, vindictively. 


28 o 


Conclusion. 


“How is the yacht? Is she damaged very much ?” asked 
our hero. 

“No. That stick Captain Brett put up as a bowsprit 
was carried away, and the deck sprung a little forward, 
but it don’t amount to much. The gale is blowing over, 
and we are heading dead for Cape Town. Everything 
would be lovely if you were only on deck.” 

“ril be with you again before we get in, never fear,” 
replied Tom, smilingly. 

His words were not prophetic, however. Day after day 
passed, and still he remained in bed. The wound, which at 
first had seemed healthy, became inflamed, and the pro- 
fessor looked very grave. 

At last, Tom’s illness was considered very serious. Pro- 
fessor Pickle had tried every remedy on board, but with- 
out the slightest success. One bright morning, several 
days from the Cape, he was seated on deck, poring over a 
medical volume. 

Chester was standing near the rail, glancing over the 
white-capped waves, with saddened eyes. Suddenly he 
heard a shrill whoop of exultation, and turning, saw the 
professor vanishing down the cabin companionway. 

Thinking he had gone daft. Gage hastily followed him 
below. He arrived just in time to see him emerge from 
his stateroom. The professor held a small round bundle, 


Conclusion. 281 

wrapped in oiled silk, in his hands, and, as Gage ap- 
proached, he began to remove the covering. 

'‘What is the matter?” asked Chester, seeing that the 
scientist was greatly excited. 

“I have found it. I have discovered a remedy. We can 
cure poor Thomas now !” 

By that, the last wrapping had been removed, exposing 
to Chester’s astonished eyes — the specimen of the genus 
Allium. In fact, the onion. 

The very sight of the peculiar, insignificant-looking 
plant aroused the enthusiasm of the botanist, and he shook 
his head mournfully. It was his all — ^his grandest prize. 
He had traveled thousands of miles, had undergone almost 
incredible hardships, and spent many hundreds of dollars 
to secure it, now 

“Do you mean to say that your onion will help Tom ?” ^ 
eagerly asked Gage, interrupting Professor Pickle’s train 
of regretful thoughts. 

“Yes; I have just read in a learned medical work that 
those members of the genus Allium having strongly 
marked exterior circles and a pulpy core, are very 
efficacious in sloughing wounds, and also invaluable in the 
treatment of blood-poisoning.” 

“Then try it, sir,” pleaded Chester, anxiously. “Do not 
delay for a moment. You can get plenty of onions in 
Fulton Market at home.” 


Conclusion. 


282 

“But not this class, young man,” remarked the pro- 
fessor, solemnly. “I would not part with this specimen 
for the gold of a Vanderbilt, but for — for Thomas’ sake 
I will give up anything.” 

There were traces of tears in the old gentleman’s eyes 
as he walked toward Tom’s room, but he proceeded reso- 
lutely with his duty, and before many moments had 
elapsed the precious specimen was transformed into a 
common poultice. 

The effect was really wonderful, and by the second day 
following, Tom was on the high road to complete recov- 
ery. By request of the professor, he was not told of the 
sacrifice, and it was not until many months afterward that 
he knew the story. 

Just two weeks from the time of leaving the island, the 
Explorer sailed into Table Bay, and again dropped anchor 
off Cape Town. Her coming soon brought Mr. Boyd — 
Violet’s relative — and the meeting between them was very 
affecting. 

The whole party, with the exception of Captain Brett, 
went ashore, and took up their quarters with the hospitable 
merchant. The old skipper remained on board to super- 
intend the extensive repairs ordered by our hero, but he 
paid frequent visits to the house, much to Mary Ann’s 
delight. 

The jovial Irishwoman had developed a fondness for 


Conclusion. 


283 

the bluff old skipper, which not even his strenuous objec- 
tions could quench. This state of affairs opened up a wide 
field for Chester’s fun-loving nature, and the young scamp 
seized the opportunity for any quantity of sport at their 
expense. 

Tom found his period of convalescence in the fine cli- 
mate of South Africa very pleasant, and he prolonged the 
time of departure from day to day until six weeks had 
elapsed. He laid the couse of this tardiness at the door of 
his health, but as Mary Ann aptly put it : 

‘Tt’s mesilf as knows phy yez don’t want to leave here, 
Tom. It’s becaze yer don’t care to forsake the purty 
flowers — ’specially th’ Violets. He ! he ! he !” 

At last, a day was set for sailing, but twenty-four hours 
before that time, startling news came to the little party. 
One morning early, a much battered and wave-worn 
American whaler arrived in port. 

Always glad to see anything flying the dear old flag, 
Tom and his chum boarded the craft, and from her cap- 
tain heard a story of the most intense interest to them. 

It seems that the whaler had been blown far to the 
southward of Cape of Good Hope by a series of gales, and, 
while making her way back toward the African coast, had 
sighted a peculiar island, covered with palms. Thinking 
that he could secure a fresh supply of water, the captain 
had landed near what seemed- to be the recent wreck of 


284 


Conclusion. 


a bark. On investigating he found traces of boat-build- 
ing, and odds and ends, indicating that a party of ship- 
wrecked sailors had lived for some days on the island. 

“I also ran across a mound of earth, like a grave, and 
at the head of it was a rude cross, bearing a name,’’ added 
the worthy mariner. 

“What was it ?” asked Tom and Chester, in a breath. 

“I disremember now, but I think the last name was 
Holt.” 

“Ah!” exclaimed Tom. “It was Cyrus Holt. The 
lesser villain has at last met his just deserts. But you 
are certain all the others escaped ?” 

The captain hesitated a moment before replying, then 
he asked, earnestly : 

“They weren’t friends of yours, were they ?” 

“No. On the contrary, they were our bitter enemies.” 

“Then it won’t shock ye to hear what I ran across later, 
I guess. On the morning of the fourth day after leaving 
that queer island, my lookout in the foretop sighted a 
boat dead ahead. It took us some time to beat up to it, 
but we finally ran alongside of it. I tell ye young gentle- 
men, I have sailed the briny for nigh on to forty years, but 
never before have I seen a worse looking sight. 

“There were six human beings in that boat, but of them 
six only one was alive. He was a man with one of the 


Conclusion. 285 

most cruel faces I ever saw, and he was mad — stark, 
staring mad. He crouched in the bottom of the boat as 
we approached, and laughed like a man at a circus. Sud- 
denly, just as we were preparing to whip him out with a 
block and tackle, he sprang on the gunwale, and yelled: 
‘I see you, Tom Truxton. The green water can't hide 
you from me. You have the gold I sinned for, and you 
can't escape!' With that, he jumped overboard, and dis- 
appeared from sight." 

‘‘My heaven ! what an end !" exclaimed Tom, horrified. 
“It was Nicholas Flint, beyond a doubt." 

“We gave a decent burial to the rest of the poor 
wretches," concluded the captain, “and then made the best 
of our way here. You knew them then, did ye ?" 

He was given a brief description of the facts in the 
case, and then Tom and his chum hastened ashore with 
the wonderful news. It will only be telling the strict 
truth to say that not one expressed any regrets. The fate 
of the arch-villain and his infamous associates was com- 
mensurate with their evil deeds. 

On the following day, the Explorer sailed for New 
York. Violet and Mary Ann were to remain six months 
longer in Cape Town, and then they were to return home. 

The yacht carried out several new members in her crew, 


286 


Conclusion. 


as the four mutineers had been put ashore for their mis- 
deeds. The voyage to the United States proved unevent- 
ful, and a trifle over two months after sailing, the beauti- 
ful bay of the American metropolis was reached. 

During the trip home. Professor Pickle prepared a 
lengthy and most learned treatise on the subject of float- 
ing islands, and also a brochure concerning the remark- 
able discovery of the seventeenth century yacht Speed- 
away. Both papers were widely published, and earned 
for the devoted scientist an international reputation. 

After a rest of several months, Tom and his faithful 
chum, Chester Gage, set sail in the Explorer — Captain 
Brett in command — for the West Indies, where they ex- 
pect to remain until the return of Violet and Mary Ann. 
Chester states that the old skipper is looking fondly for 
a reunion with the latter, but the hunted expression upon 
his face when the Amazon’s name is mentioned belies the 
assertion. 

It is the expressed intention of our hero to enter Har- 
vard with Chester in due time, and then to revive the old 
banking firm, of which his father was the head, when he 
gains his majority. As a matter of course, Chester will 
have a prominent position in the bank, and it may be that 
even Captain Brett will be found there in some capacity. 


Conclusion. 287 

It is too early to predict the outcome of Tom’s attach- 
ment for Violet, but it will doubtless be another chapter in 
the old, old story of which Master Cupid is the cunning 
author. If such should ultimately be the case, never fear 
but what Mary Ann — ^honest and faithful friend that she 
is — will rule the new household. 

THE END. 








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